


Couples Retreat

by JRC10



Category: General Hospital
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 58,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRC10/pseuds/JRC10
Summary: This is a Nelexis, Friz, and Vanna story.Dr. Neil Byrne is running a couples retreat out in the wilderness to give 4 couples a opportunity to enhance their relationships.  Neil has invited his new girlfriend, Alexis Davis, to join him during his off time.  Franco, still living with Drew's memories, attempted to have Dr. Maddox's memory procedure; however, it failed.  Now, he and Elizabeth need to figure out if they can still have a future and a marriage without Franco's memories or personality.  Finn and Anna, hitting a significant obstacle in their relationship, are trying to determine if they should move forward together or apart.  Valentin and Nina join Diane and Max in trying to increase intimacy and connection with their partners.  This retreat, however, turns out much different than any of the couples anticipated.





	1. Strengthen Your Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @Adelheide1121 @ghjojo @Erin_GH_NLG and @TheWaterFairy. You all get writing credit for the most hilarious and enjoyable brainstorming session ever.

Alexis  
______________

Damn, he looks good. Really good. His V-neck t-shirt hints at what’s underneath more than all the button-ups he typically wears. I want to touch him. Should I? We haven’t touched like that before. We’ve shared some kisses, but they were awfully chaste. What am I thinking? He’s a man, of course he’d want me to touch him. He’d probably be thrilled if I leaned over the center console and started unzipping his jeans.

“I’m really glad you’ve agreed to come with me,” says Neil. His eyes are on the tree-lined winding road in front of him, but he steals a quick glance at me. His uneven smirk sends flutters straight to my heart.

“I’m glad you invited me. Although, I have to admit, I’m not typically much of a wilderness person. My Cassadine family didn’t do many ‘outdoor’ activities.” As a matter of fact, I think the only time my family really spent outdoors was to oversee the disposal of dead bodies.

Neil chuckles a sexy, rumbling sound. “Don’t worry, we’ll be sleeping in a cabin, and there’s a dining hall and shower. It’s more ‘glamping’ than camping.”

“Do you think you’ll be busy helping the couples all weekend?”

His crooked smile gives a twitch. “Are you wondering if we’re going to have private time together?”

I try not to flush like a schoolgirl, “Yeah, I guess, I am.”

“Yes, Alexis, I’m more of a guidance counselor this weekend than a ‘therapist.’ This retreat is about couples finding a way to build on the relationships they have, learn more about each other, and fall deeper in love. They can’t do that with a therapist hanging over their shoulder the whole time. Most of this weekend will just be you and me getting to know each other better without all the distractions of home.”

I cringe, “I don’t know what else you could possibly learn about me. I think I’ve told you everything.”

Oh, Alexis…” he laughs, “there’s a lot we don’t know about each other yet.”

His hand reaches over and rests on my thigh. I get a little light-headed when all my blood rushes down to lower regions of my body. His fingertips graze my thigh where my skirt is riding up, and I’m acutely aware of even the slightest movement of skin on skin. The anticipatory whimper that escapes my lips is beyond my control.

“Mmm,” he hums in response.

Yeah, I think he’d be fine with me making a move on him.

A small turnout appears just up the road. It’s a break in the trees big enough for his Range Rover to fit and not get hit by traffic. “Pull over,” I say.

“What?” he steps on the brakes

“There, there,” I point. “Just give me a minute.”

He pulls the SUV to the side and looks at me in concern, “Alexis, are you ok?”

I unbuckle my seat belt and his, and then I crawl over the center console. I marvel at how easy this task is to accomplish in the large SUV compared to the smaller cars I’ve had sex in during my youth. This isn’t my first ‘first time’ in a car.

I have to hitch up my skirt up to straddle him the way I want. His breath catches when I come down on his lap, and his hands are on my hips in the most promising way. The denim of his jeans is rough on my thighs, stimulating long neglected skin. I can’t help but squirm on top of him for more.

I drag my hands up his shirt to feel more than just hints of what lies beneath that thin layer of cotton. My fingertips meet firm resistance on his toned chest. They continue their exploration northward, until I’m holding his face in my hands. 

Neil has a man’s face...an ever-present five o’clock shadow threatening to come out a few hours early...a tangled mess of unkempt hair that couldn’t be subdued by even the strongest of concoctions from Helena’s old labs...and he has these hazel eyes, sometimes a little blue, sometimes a little green, that mesmerize. The kindest of eyes.

A thought hits me full force as my eyes drop to his lips...Neil Byrne is a sexy man. A different kind of sexy than the likes of Julian, Ric, or Jerry. He’s an introverted kind of sexy. He doesn’t shove it down your throat around every turn. Nor is it haughty or arrogant. It sits there, just under the surface, slowly burning, simmering, waiting…

I press my lips to his, and a jolt runs through his body. Suddenly, his flame isn’t simmering anymore. It flares up with shocking ferocity. One of his hands is in my hair, knotting it up, gripping it tight, and other other arm reaches around my waist and pulls me firm against him. All I can do is moan into his mouth as his cock fights the zipper of his jeans, rubbing against my hot, needy sex. 

His tongue is in my mouth, and I realize, this is the first time I’ve felt it...it’s the first time he’s felt mine. We engage in the dance of two new lovers entangling so much of ourselves, learning how we feel, learning the sounds we make, our tastes and smells. Neil’s body and mouth are a novelty, new terrain to explore. 

I lick and suck on his tongue like I imagined doing a million times while sitting on his couch pouring out my heart and soul. And what’s better, I don’t have to imagine how it feels for him to do the same to me anymore. I feel his tongue against mine. I feel how he sucks me in deep. I feel his WANT for me, and my body is burning along with him.

A loud honk sounds from a car next to us. I jump up to see another SUV stopped in the middle of the road. A grinning redhead is hanging out the window and waving the age old sign to roll down ours. 

“Oh God.” I bury my face in Neil’s neck as he scopes out the scene. 

I hear our window moving down.

“Don’t,” I say. “You’ll only encourage her.”

“She’s holding up traffic. We’ll get her moving before we stew in our embarrassment.” Neil and I gaze out the window at Diane and Max watching us from their vehicle.

“Yes?” I ask.

“Hello, counselor,” she addresses me. Her voice drops several registers as she says, “Hello, counselor,” to Neil. 

“What do you want, Diane? You’re holding up traffic.” There’s at least three cars behind her looking for a chance to go around.

“Oh, we thought this was the first of many demonstrations on spicing up our love life this weekend. We didn’t want to miss out.” Diane’s eyes flare with amusement.

I can feel the flush of red covering me from head to toe. “Would you get out of here?”

“Only if you promise more of this when we get up to the lake.”

The look I give her is one worthy of one of my stepmother’s cold rages. Diane’s smile doesn’t fade as she rolls up her window and Max drives on.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, peeling myself off Neil, ready to sit in my seat properly chastised by my best friend’s teasing.

“Wait.” He pulls me back down to his lap and cups my face. He smiles adoringly and kisses me again. My head is back in that buzzing place it was in before our interruption. 

His hands trace up my waist and stop at my ribs, just under my breasts. My inhale lifts my chest further, almost begging him to touch me. 

Neil groans as he pulls his lips off me. “God, you feel good.”

Then why is he stopping?

“We’re going to be late if we don’t get moving.” At least he looks like he doesn’t want to move.

Never one to wear out my welcome, and always conscientious, I pull myself off, and find my way back to the passenger’s seat. I secure my seatbelt once again, and squeeze my legs together to try to temper my arousal. Neil adjusts himself in his pants, and takes a few deep breaths before he’s ready to get going.

Just before he puts the car back in drive, he meets my gaze with a hungry look in his eyes. He shakes his head, and licks his lips, “Mmm.” 

He shifts gears, and merges back on the small, winding road. This time, he grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers for the rest of the ride up to the lake. As we drive the last ten miles of the journey, my anticipation grows for the other firsts we’re going to have on this trip...the first time we’ll make love...our first full night together...and whatever other firsts my giddy imagination can come up with...

Anna  
______________

The lake is blue and glittering in the sunlight, like a sea of ten-thousand diamonds calling me in. I’ve seen the sun glitter off hundreds of lakes, rivers, and oceans all over the world. It’s one of those comforting constants for a person who’s spent so much of their life away from home, especially on those missions I had to travel alone.

I’m not alone today...but it feels like it.

A tear falling down my cheek threatens to uncover the facade I’ve erected for the other people milling about. I wipe away the nuisance, and take what comfort I can in the glittering, blue water.

A memory of a time long ago in the Mediterranean invades my mind...me and Robert running from the DVX...washing ashore...kissing on the beach...mad about each other...just before we wed…

Those memories don’t help the tears.

“Anna,” Finn says as he touches my shoulder. “You left your tea in the car.”

He hands me the cup. “Thank you.”

He’s struggling to look me in the eyes. Shame does that to a man. That’s fine...I’m struggling to look him in the eyes, too. Rage does that to a woman.

“I’ve got our bags in the cabin.” His hands move awkwardly to his pockets. He looks so out of place in the wilderness in his slacks and his vest. I bite my lip trying not to criticize his lack of forethought in wearing Tom Ford dress shoes to the lake. Hopefully, he brought something he can hike in...I might decide to leave him here.

“Thank you.”

“It’s a little smaller than I anticipated,” he says. “I hope that doesn’t bother you. The bed is...cozy.”

How many times have I slept with nothing but a fire in the wilderness? A small bed would’ve been a luxury in those times. “I’m sure it’s lovely.”

“Hey,” he says, placing his hands on my arms. Our eyes are forced to meet at such close proximity, “Thank you for doing this for me...for us.”

His blue eyes are vibrant in the natural light. It’s such a contrast to the sadness permeating his expression. But there’s hope there, too.

I wonder if there’s hope in my eyes? I guess there must be if I’m here.

I look away. The pain is still too recent...still too raw. 

“Hey, Nina!” a pompous voice yells from a black Hummer parked next to our car, disturbing not only the moment, but all the wildlife in a three mile radius. I can’t see his face, only his rear end bending over into the back of his monstrosity of a vehicle. “Honey, can you see if I left my chap stick in the Louis Vuitton bag?”

Dear God. No. Please, no. It better not be him...

“I’ve already checked there, babe!” a voice yells back from the cabin next to ours. “I couldn’t find it.”

“Not in the weekender! The messenger bag!”

“Oh, ok. One sec!” 

A moment later, Nina Reeves comes running out of the cabin. If their loud voices didn’t scare away all the bears from here to Port Charles, then her neon green sports bra and yoga pants certainly will. She’s bounding down to Valentin who’s emerged the rest of his body from the Hummer. 

“Here you go,” she says. “I’m so glad we didn’t leave your prescription at home. You know how chapped your lips get when you’re outside too much.”

“It’s the wind that really gets me. I know it’ll pick up at any moment.” He licks his finger and holds it up to find the non-existent breeze.

“Watch the leaves if you’re looking for a breeze, Ivan. They’re even more sensitive to the wind than your lips,” I say.

His shoulders tense at the sound of my voice, and he turns to look at me. By his narrowed eyes, I can tell he doesn’t like me calling him by his alias. Nina’s got her eyebrow raised at me. Thanks to my sister, she doesn’t trust me around her husband. She puts a hand on Valentin’s shoulder and purses her lips. It’s all I can do to keep my eyes open against the onslaught of tacky color and defensive superiority.

“Hello, Anna. I didn’t realize you and Finn signed up for this retreat, too,” says Valentin.

I shrug, “It looks like we’re to be neighbors.”

“Great,” says Nina. She’s a little heavy-handed with her sarcasm for my British taste. We prefer it laced with passive-aggression.

Valentin reaches out and shakes Finn’s hand. “Is that vest part of Patagonia’s fall line?”

I try not to flush in vicarious embarrassment. Finn looks like he’s going to high tea, not to a weekend wilderness retreat for couples barely holding it together.

“This one has the extra pocket,” says Finn, pointing to a small opening at his breast. “It’s my utility vest.”

“Clearly.” Valentin scoffs. “Come, Nina. Let’s finish unloading the blankets. Did you pack the lambswool-cashmere throw I suggested?”

“Yes, I did. It’s really a superior blend.”

I turn to Finn, “I need to take a walk.”

“Do you want company?”

“I just need a moment alone.”

He’s obviously disappointed, but if I’m supposed to stay out here for an entire weekend without using any firearms, I’m going to need some space. I turn toward the water. There’s a path that leads down to a small dock not far from the cabins.

I can’t believe we’re here with Valentin. I’m going to have to sleep with my 9mm under my pillow to get any rest.

I pass Alexis and Dr. Byrne walking hand in hand. 

“You sure you don’t want to change shoes?” he asks.

“These are reasonable pumps, I’ll be fine until we’ve unpacked,” says Alexis. “When you said retreat, I imagined turn-down service, running water, four-star dining, and at least a queen-sized bed.”

Neil chuckles, “The showers and bathrooms have running water and are just down the way, the dining hall has a decent cook, and I think we can make the best of the smaller bed. I’ll be your turn-down service.”

Alexis giggles and leans in for a kiss.

I step quicker, regretting agreeing to come to this ridiculous couples weekend. There are way too many people sporting designer shoes and handbags in the damn forest.

Only a few dozen meters away people, and I’m already feeling more at peace. 

The wooden dock floats on the water, and moves a little when I step on. I walk out to the edge and sit cross-legged to look over the lake once again. It’s a dark-blue color underneath a tranquil surface. At least I’ll have a pretty view while suffering all this nonsense.

Elizabeth  
______________

The silence is most telling. My Franco could never stay quiet this long. This Franco doesn’t speak much, which sometimes I’m grateful for, because when he does talk, it’s usually with that horrific accent or about some memories that aren’t his. At least when he’s quiet, I can look at his face and know my husband’s still there. When he’s speaking, I’m too busy trying not to roll my eyes or throw something at this impostor.

I miss him. I miss my husband.

I watch his lean body carry our things from the car to the cabin. He’s quiet and efficient, bringing in our bags, pillows, and blankets. His muscles rolling under his gray t-shirt are a mesmerizing sight. My fingertips can still feel the memory of those muscles from the last time we made love.

I miss my husband.

He goes back out to the car, and I can’t help but admire the view from behind. When he comes back in the cabin with the art supplies I insisted we bring, he couldn’t look MORE like Franco. 

“Where do ya want these?” he asks in a soft, low voice. 

“Over there is fine.”

As he sets down the two canvases, the paints, the brushes, and the rest of the supplies, he says, “You plannin’ on doin’ a lot of paintin’ up here, huh?”

I tense, afraid to ask him to do anything Franco used to do. “I was hoping you’d try painting with me. Maybe we could even paint each other.”

He sighs deep, and his jaw clenches tight. “I don’t know how to paint.”

“I know, I was just hoping you might try. That’s what this weekend is about, right? Trying?”

He looks me dead in the eye with a coldness that my husband would never, “Elizabeth...I...I promised your boys I’m come up here this weekend and do the activities and all that, but you’re not just gonna force me to be someone I’m not.”

My voice is soft, “But you are Franco. And I’m not forcing...I’m asking.”

“The kids put all their money together for this retreat, which is really sweet of them, but I think we’re just indulgin’ their fantasies. This weekend isn’t going to change anything, and we’re going to go back to Port Charles on Monday and just break their hearts. It isn’t fair to them.”

“None of this has been fair to them. They’ve lost the only father that’s ever chosen to be with them. Franco gave himself up for Cameron...something no man has ever done for my son before. It’s not fair for you to keep their father away from them.”

“I’m not tryin’ to keep their father away from them. I’m here, aren’t I? I didn’t follow Kim and Julian out to New York. She ended things with me, and I’ve accepted that. I’m givin’ this a chance for the boys’ sake, but it’s also very unrealistic that your gonna get back the man you fell in love with. That procedure you forced me to do didn’t work. Forcin’ me to do couples paintin’ in the woods ain’t gonna work either. This is who I am, and this is who I’m gonna continue to be.”

His words hit too close to home. All my fears summed up in a few sentences. I swallow the lump in my throat and tears fill my eyes.

“Look, don’t. Please don’t do that,” he says.

“What?” I wipe the tears falling down my cheeks.

“This is all hard enough without seein’ you cryin’ all the time. I really don’t wanna spend the whole weekend feelin’ guilty for existin’.”

I do my best to pull myself together, but it only makes the tears fall harder. My Franco would’ve wrapped his arms around me and kissed my temple if he saw me cry. This guy tells me to stop crying to make HIM feel better!

A quiet sob escapes my mouth, and I do my best to stifle any more.

“Damn it, I’m hurt, too, here. The woman I love chose another guy and ran off with him. You’re not the only one with a broken heart.”

“I never said I was. I never said this was easy for you.”

“I can’t just get over her, you know.”

“And I can’t just give up on you, Franco.”

“My name isn’t Franco.”

“Yes, it is. Legally...you are Franco. You can’t fight who you really are.” I sob again and stand up off the bed. “Is this really such a terrible thing?” I gesture at my body. “Is it so awful to have to share a room with me for a few days? Would it be completely devastating to your ego to be open to loving a woman like me?”

He stares at me like he’s assessing me. He’s so stiff, no wasted movement, no fidgets, no visible energy...no Franco-ness. “Elizabeth, I’m sure you’re a lovely woman, but you don’t love me as I am, how can you expect me to love you as you are?”

A knife to heart. A punch to the gut. I can’t breathe. I fight my closing throat, and suck in a breath. I try sucking in again. “Franco did. He always found a way. The only man who ever wanted me to be me.”

“See. I keep tellin’ you. I’m not him.”

“No. You certainly aren’t.” I step past him and run out the door. I can’t be near THAT man right now. I can’t be with HIM. 

“Elizabeth,” says a gentle voice to my right. “Are you ok?”

It’s Alexis…

I keep running. I can’t deal with this right now. I just can’t. I aim for the thickest area of forest and beyond. 

I run, and I run, and I run. Finally, when all I can hear is my own breath catching in my throat, I stop. 

I throw back my head loose a scream! I can’t scream or cry in front of the boys. I can’t cry in front of THAT Franco. I can’t feel anything in front of anyone that matters to me, so, damn it, I have to do it by myself!

I let the sobs roll through me, shaking my body, seizing in pain and anger!

I should’ve just come alone. Alone is better than constant rejection. We should’ve lied and told the boys we tried, but it didn’t work out. Maybe we can still leave...

I look around and see my surroundings for the first time. I must’ve scared off the wildlife, because everything is quiet and still. Great big trees obscure the view in every direction. I haven’t seen so much green in years.

I realize I have no idea which direction I came from. I begin putting one foot in front of the other in the direction I think I’m supposed to go. I’ve camped enough with the boys to know it’s stupid to wander off too far on your own. I’m not ready to go back, but I do want to know where I am.

It doesn’t take long to reach the lake. I’m about a half mile from the little dock in front of the cabins. The ground here is elevated above the lake at least a couple dozen feet. Enormous rocks hang over the edge of the water...It looks like a place the boys would like to jump.

It’s a stunning view overlooking the glittering water. A romantic view. A view I could really appreciate at another time in my life. Maybe one day, I’ll come back and spend some time with the boys, or even alone painting the landscape.

One day…

But for now, I sit on the edge of the rocks, and think how the hell I can get my husband back.

Alexis  
______________

“Should someone go look for Elizabeth?” I ask.

“She’s only been gone an hour, and she looked pretty upset,” says Neil. “Let’s give her space. She’s got a lot on her plate right now.”

Neil grabs two chairs, and I pick up the last one. We carry them to the fire pit where Valentin is attempting to start a fire by sparking little pieces of metal together. Nina is watching him with rapt attention, and squealing every time she sees a spark.

Neil arranges the chairs in pairs in a circle, “I think we’ve got one too many. We only need nine for the meeting.”

“Nine?” says Nina. “Isn’t this a couples retreat? Doesn’t that imply EVEN numbers?”

“I’m facilitating the retreat,” says Neil, glancing in my direction. “Not participating.”

I only agreed to come to this retreat with Neil if I didn’t have to do the activities.

“Why is that?” says Valentin. “Your techniques are good enough for us, but not for yourself?”

“How’s that fire coming along?” I interject. There is no sign of smoke or flame.

His face falls irritated, “The tinder is moist.”

“You know, we don’t actually need a fire until this evening,” says Neil. “It’s only noon.”

“Ambiance,” says Valentin.

Franco comes walking out of his cabin toward the circle. His posture is that of serviceman, and his face is more serious than I’ve ever seen him. Even at his worst, he was always mocking and expressive. Now he’s so flat and severe.

“Have you heard from Elizabeth?” I ask.

“No, ma’am.” 

I’ll never get used to that accent. “She’s been gone for over an hour, don’t you think you should go looking for her?”

“No, ma’am.”

“This is a couples retreat. Shouldn’t the couple do the exercises together?”

He shrugs, “I can’t force her. I’m here like I promised I’d be.”

I don’t like this version of Franco any more than the last one.

Neil grabs my hand. “If she’s not back by the end of the meeting, I’ll go looking for her.”

Franco stares down at Valentin struggling with the fire. I’d think there was amusement in his eyes if he wasn’t completely void of human emotion. “Here,” he says. He nearly pushes Valentin aside and grabs the little flint, or whatever it is. In only moments, there’s a bright white flame that catches onto the little flakes of wood. Franco blows gently under the flame, and it spreads surprisingly fast. He rearranges the larger pieces of wood on top, and a sizable fire is burning in minutes.

Franco tosses the little tools to Valentin and finds a seat away from where the smoke is blowing.

“I’m sure it was a shift in the breeze or something, Ivan,” says Anna walking up with Finn. They find seats next to Franco “Don’t let your ego get burned.”

I’ve always wondered about the nature of the relationship between Anna and my brother. Her level of hostility toward him seems to come from a very personal and vulnerable place. Then, I remind myself how much I don’t care about anything having to do with my brother and push my curiosity aside.

Valentin sits as far away from Anna and Franco as he can manage, putting him in the direct line of the billowing smoke. Nina follows and sits next to him.

“We’re coming! We’re coming! Don’t start without us!” Diane and Max are running in from the woods off to the east. Diane has a leaf in her hair, and Max’s is fly down. “Did we make it in time?”

“You’re fine,” I say. I go to her and pull out the leaf, and adjust her clothes. I sigh deeply at her lack of shame, and a scent hits my nose making me cringe. I whisper in her ear. “You reek of sex.” 

“Good,” she whispers back. “At least one of us does. Now, come on. Sit by me.” She grabs my hand and leads me to the chair next to her.

“No, I’m not…”

“You’re not playing? Oh no, no, no, no. You need this more than anyone here. Sit.”

“Look,” says Neil. “It’s not exactly appropriate for me to facilitate the group with someone I’m seeing in the circle.”

“Like you said in the brochure,” Diane raises an eyebrow, “this isn’t therapy. This is a weekend of guided activities to bring us closer to our partners. Now, I don’t see the harm in Alexis sitting here and listening in.”

Neil smiles, “You lawyers are a delight to play semantics with.”

I roll my eyes at my friend who is pulling me to sit down next to her. I sit and look to Neil with a raised eyebrow...Maybe it wouldn’t be such a horrible thing to hear him talk about how to improve relationships.

He shrugs and sits next to me.

“What do you think?” I whisper. “Is this ok?”

“Only if you’re comfortable. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you to take this relationship somewhere you aren’t ready.”

I shrug. “It can’t hurt to listen.”

He reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze, and surprises me by keeping hold and intertwining our fingers. I’m blushing a little as all eyes turn on us. The group is waiting for its leader to speak.

Neil, however, has his head turned to the west watching another late arrival come to the meeting. 

“Elizabeth,” I say, relieved. Her delicate face is as flawless as ever, but the whites of her eyes have turned completely red. Poor thing must’ve spent the last hour crying. She holds her head high, though, as she finds her chair. She doesn’t spare a glance at Franco, and I have no doubt what a charming asshole he probably was to her.

“It looks like we’re all here,” says Neil. “I’d say it’s time to get started.”

I look around the circle at the four other couples...Max and Diane...Valentin and Nina...Finn and Anna...Elizabeth and Franco. Only half of the group looks like they actually want to be here. I guess they all have their reasons for coming.

“I’d like to officially welcome you to this couples retreat,” says Neil. “As I detailed in the brochure for you, this is a semi-structured weekend of activities and exercises that provide opportunities to strengthen your intimate relationships. I’ve loosely based this weekend’s strategies on the research of the world renowned marriage specialist, John Gottman. The three days you’re here will be divided into five areas of focus: strengthening your friendship, deepening your understanding of one another, spicing up your intimacy, transforming conflict into bridges, and unearthing shared values and purpose.

“For the rest of the day, we’re going to focus on strengthening our friendship with our partners. Research shows that we need a bank of positive experiences to draw from in a relationship. Couples that have a ratio of one positive experience per every one negative interaction (such as criticism, contempt, stonewalling, or defensiveness), tend to be headed for divorce or separation. Couples who see themselves as happy tend to have a ratio of at least five to one. Our goal here is to find meaningful ways to make substantial deposits in the bank to use for a dark day. Our positive experiences come from things like gratitude, forgiveness, and spending meaningful time together. That’s what we’re going to do today. Spend meaningful time with our partner...our friend.” 

Neil’s words are making me self-conscious. I’ve always been more of a friend or lover kind of person. Friends never made sustainable lovers (Ned, Sonny, and Finn), and lovers never made sustainable relationships (Ric, Jerry, and Julian). How the hell am I supposed to mix the two?

“Now, tell me, what does friendship mean to you?” Neil asks the group.

Suddenly the group looks like a bunch of middle schoolers avoiding eye contact with the teacher so as not to have to answer the question. Nobody speaks.

“Alright,” says Neil, “someone needs to break the ice and get this started. Think of your closest friends. What is it about those relationships that’s so meaningful to you?”

It’s quiet again.

I have a dozen thoughts on the subject myself, but I’m just here to listen. I wait as the awkward silence stretches on.

“Trust,” Anna finally speaks. “Loyalty.”

“Trust and loyalty,” Neil repeats. “Admirable qualities in a friend. Could you elaborate on what that means to you?”

“I didn’t really have a family growing up. My friends have been my family. The people I consider friends are the ones I could consistently count on to be there, no matter the time we spent apart. And they’re loyal. They put our friendship before anything else that might come between us. And I’ve taken pride in placing these relationships above all else in return.”

As Anna’s talking, I watch Finn turn a fierce shade of red. He places his head in his hands and avoids eye contact with the group. Oh, Finn, my friend...what have you done?

“Dr. Finn,” says Neil, “your partner was brave enough to share her thoughts, perhaps you can share yours in return?”

Finn lifts his head and gives one of his uncomfortable half-smiles. It’s forced and doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Umm…” Finn looks to Anna who’s looking at the fire. Then, he looks over to me. I give him an encouraging nod, much like I’ve done dozens of times before in AA. His face softens and he gathers himself enough to say, “Friendship is being there for a person when they need you.” At first, I think he’s talking about me. We’ve been each other’s shoulders to cry on and sort of sponsors in our sobriety. But Anna is grinding her teeth in agitation at his words, and I know there’s hidden meaning there.

“Trust, loyalty, presence, and immediacy. These are the qualities of friendship you’ve identified as most important for the two of you,” says Neil. “When you choose your activity this afternoon, pick something that would highlight these qualities in one another.”

Neil smiles, “Who’s next?”

“I’ll go,” says Elizabeth. Her voice is stronger than I expected. “To me, friendship is about understanding, compassion, and acceptance. Regardless of what terrible things we’ve done, my friends and I love each other, no matter what.”

“Wonderful. And you Franco?”

Franco cringes at the use of his name. His eyes don’t go anywhere near Elizabeth when he says, “Respect.”

“Respect. Great. Would you like to elaborate?”

“No.”

“Alright then.” 

I stroke Neil’s hand in support, not that he needs it. He moves on unfazed.

“So, Elizabeth and Franco, your task today should be something related to understanding, compassion, acceptance, and respect.”

“Oooo, our turn,” Nina interrupts. “For me, friendship is about being honest, and doing the right thing for the other person, even if it hurts. No secrets.”

“Honesty...integrity. Great. Valentin?”

My brother sighs deep. I wonder if he’s ever had a real friend in his life. His eyes shoot across the fire, and I think he may be looking to Anna. If that level of hostility is what he considers friendship, then he may want to consider skipping this step with Nina.

“A friend is...helpful.”

I raise an eyebrow, and I can’t help but blurt out, “So a friend is someone useful to you?” He sounds like our father. Valentin grinds his teeth as Anna chuckles quietly. I feel a squeeze of my hand, and realize I’m causing problems in my boyfriend’s group.

“So your activity should highlight your honesty and helpfulness.”

“Max? Diane?”

“Fuuun,” says Diane. “Friends should make you laugh, and bring lightness and ease to life.”

“Friends would give their lives for each other,” says Max.

“Ok. But since we’re trying to keep everyone alive this trip, maybe you can just focus on the fun?” Neil reaches in his pocket and pulls out a little sheets of paper and passes them to his left. “I put together of list of activities for you to consider this afternoon. It’s not an exhaustive list. Feel free to make up your own or adjust the activities to your liking. The storage unit over there has all manner of equipment you can use to suit your needs...Dinner will be at 6:30...Go on and enjoy each other.”

The circle of couples disperses in varying degrees of enthusiasm. Nina bounds up, pulling Valentin with her, while Finn and Anna lag slowly behind. Neil and I are left alone, still holding hands. My heart flutters when his eyes find mine, and that playful little smile graces his face.

“So…” I say, stroking the palm of his hand, “what’s your idea of friendship?”

His eyes twinkle when he says, “Someone to share an adventure with. Someone to help you feel alive.”

“Adventure?” I look nervously around our wild surroundings wondering what on earth is going through his mind.

“Mmhmm.” With his free hand, he tucks a flyaway strand of hair behind my ear. “How about you, Alexis? What does friendship mean to you?”

I consider a moment before I answer. “Well, two of my closest friends are here, and already shared a piece of what makes our friendships so wonderful. Having fun and being present. Beyond that...” I think of Jax, Chloe, and Ned, “...friends are the family you get to choose for yourself. They’re the people who help you realize you’re more than what your family demands you to be. They help you explore new sides of yourself.”

“Alright, then.” He holds both of my hands in his. “Let’s have a little fun, a little adventure, and explore different sides of ourselves.”

I can’t help my smile at the idea. “Just to warn you, I’m the opposite of athletic. My physical skill set has a very limited purview.” Primarily the bedroom.

“I think it might be fun to push your limits.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Neil leans forward and pulls me in for a kiss. It’s sweet and chaste at first, but one of his hands moves to the back of my neck pulling me closer as his tongue licks into my mouth.

He has a nice tongue. It gently caresses mine, back and forth, unhurried, unrushed. His languid strokes build a slow anticipation in my core. I hear a hum sounding from my throat.

The kiss is over too soon. It takes me a moment to open my eyes, and for my vision to come back into focus. Neil’s looking at me with a heated playfulness.

“Ready?” he says. 

I’m so damn ready. 

Anna  
______________

“Ready?” I ask

“Are you sure about this?” Finn’s knees are visibly shaking.

“Oh, come on. It’s not even technically ‘climbing.’ It’s more of a steep hike. I’m sure your loafers can handle it.”

“They’re not loafers. And if you’re hiking on an incline so steep it requires you to be on all fours, it’s a climb.”

My hands massage my temple trying to soothe the headache threatening to come on. “Then what other activity would you suggest we do that would show me I can trust you?”

Finn hangs his head in defeat, “I’m sorry. You’re right. This is perfect.”

“This will be good for you,” I snap. “You’ll build some strength and stamina.” 

I start up the steep trail. I hear shuffling feet behind me scrambling to keep up.

“Anna, wait up!”

“No,” I say under my breath, and keep going.

“Anna! Wait!”

I spin around and point my finger at him, “Like you waited for me?!”

He catches up, “Anna, sweetheart…”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me! You don’t get to call me that anymore! You gave that up when you...when you…” I can’t bring myself to say it.

“When I failed you. I’m so sorry, Anna.”

His apologies do nothing but infuriate me. I turn and march up the hill.

“Anna, wait! Talk to me.” He’s somehow caught up to me, and grabs my arm spinning me around. “Please.”

“What’s the point? It won’t change what you did.”

“But it’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To work things out?”

“We’re here to see if we have a chance.”

“What do you mean ‘if’ we have a chance? We have a chance if you say we do.”

I can’t hold back and let loose a right hook. 

“Ow!” He bends over and holds his eye.

“How dare you put this all on me! This is YOUR fault! YOU did this!”

“I know. I know.” He stands up still covering his eye. “I know I did this. I didn’t mean to put this all on you. All I’m saying is that I all in. I want this. I want you and me.”

“Apparently not, or you wouldn’t have slept with Hayden!”

“I was a fool! I made a mistake, Anna, please.”

“No! How can you say sex is a mistake? You didn’t make a typo. You didn’t forget an ingredient in a recipe. You had sex with another woman. With a woman you almost married! That’s not a mistake; that’s a choice! You CHOSE her!”

“I wasn’t thinking straight. You were gone for so long, and she was there saying all the things I wanted to hear before she left…”

I turn away and walk up the mountain. “You’re a weak man! You’re weak! Your resolve is feeble. Your word means nothing.”

“I’m sorry. I know what a fool I am. I promise I’ll be better.”

“Then go be better for Hayden. Or be best for someone else.”

“I want to be better for you. I love you.”

“You don’t deserve another chance.”

“I don’t deserve you, you mean.”

Tears build behind my eyes. “You bastard. I’ve spent my life taking on the DVX, Sonny Corinthos, Julian Jerome, and hundreds of criminals, and none of them ever made me feel this way. Not even Faison.”

He cringes at my last words. He knows the depth of pain Faison caused me. He knows I was brainwashed by him. He knows how unsafe that man made me feel. I drive it home, “I’ll relive a dozen Faisons before I’d relive another heartbreak from you.”

“My God, Anna. I never would’ve done what I did if I’d realized…”

“I’d given up on love, Finn. I gave up on finding a partner. But you convinced me we’d be worth it.”

“We are worth it.”

“You convinced me to agree to marry you with all your pretty words and love making. And when Hayden asked you to go to Rome, I told you to go. I told you to figure it all out. I loved you, but I was willing to give you what you need. You chose to stay! You chose me!”

“The best choice of my life.”

“You fickle, fickle man! All you see is what’s in front of you! While I’m here and Hayden’s in Rome, you choose me. While Hayden’s here and I’m in Europe, you choose her. It’s like you’ve never developed a fully functional concept of object permanence.”

“It’s not like that…”

“That’s exactly what it’s like. And in my work, I’m going to leave every now and then. Sometimes for days, sometimes for months, sometimes longer. I’ll never be able to trust you again.”

“Then take me with you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not an intelligence agent. You can hardly hike twenty meters up a hill.”

He rolls his eyes. He actually has the audacity to roll his eyes at me. “I’m not Robert, you mean.”

I scoff, “Of course, you’re not Robert. No one is Robert. And I certainly never had to worry about trusting Robert with one of his exes.”

Finn grabs my arm and pulls me close. His arms wrap around me like the lover he once was. “Anna, baby, please. I fucked up. There’s no excuse for betraying you like that. I was an idiot, a fool, caught up in insecurity and vulnerability. I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll never do anything so beneath you ever again.”

My heart and mind are at war with each other. It hurts. Everything hurts so bad, but when I’m close to him, when I smell him, when I feel his body, it hurts a little less...then, I remember Hayden was in his arms like this not so long ago, and it hurts all the more. 

I try to push away, but he won’t let me go. He’s looking at me like he wants to kiss me...with the same lips that kissed Hayden.

I stomp on his foot as hard as I can. 

“Damn it!” he jumps away. As he steps back on one foot, it rolls on a rock, and he goes down. He’s groaning in pain, and I can’t tell if he’s holding the foot I stomped on, or the ankle he rolled.

I know I’m supposed to feel bad he’s in pain, but I just can’t right now. He’s lucky I didn’t put a bullet in him the night he told me what he did. 

I turn to finish the hike on my own.

“Anna!” he calls out. “I can’t move my ankle.”

I turn to look down on him one more time, “Good, then maybe you won’t have sex with the first person that comes by when I’m gone.”

As I turn around, I’m confronted by more unpleasantness. Valentin has Nina’s arm hooked over his shoulder, and he’s half carrying her down the hill. I step aside and let them pass. Nina’s looking queasy and sallow.

“Did you already strengthen your friendship? All done for the day?” I ask. 

“Nina ate some questionable berries. She’s not feeling well,” says Valentin. 

“So I see.”

When Valentin passes Finn, he stops and looks back up at me. “Your idea of friendship?”

“You already knew that.”

Valentin’s laughter is cut off just as Nina bends over and vomits right next to Finn. I take delight in the sight of the germaphobe catching vomit splatter on his designer suit and vest in the wilderness. 

With a sigh of satisfaction, I turn on my heel and begin my friendship hike alone.

Elizabeth  
______________

I’d thought we were coming out here and sketch together. Instead, I’m watching Franco build a two-story shelter in the forest using just a knife. 

It started as me needing a place to sit. He bundled sticks together and tied them off with an unraveled cord that I thought was a man-bracelet he’d been wearing on his wrist. A sweet gesture, really. It almost gave me hope…

Then he decided on making a table, then extra shade, and next thing I know, I’ve been listening to the sounds of him whacking away at wood for two hours without a word spoken between us.

I’ve got to reach out to him. I’ve got to bridge this gap between us... 

“You’d be great on Naked and Afraid,” I say awkwardly. 

“Pardon me?” He looks like he’s deciding whether or not to be offended by my words, and I regret them almost immediately.

“Oh, sorry. It’s a television show you and I would watch...maybe it wasn’t around in 2012.”

“I don’t really watch television.”

“Of course not. Drew probably didn’t have access to much TV in the service.”

Franco’s face hardens. He doesn’t like when I refer to ‘his’ memories as Drew’s. This isn’t working. Maybe I should stick to the task at hand.

“Why don’t you take a break and sit with me a moment? We can get to know each other better.”

He scoffs, “Come on, Elizabeth. You don’t wanna get to know me. You wanna tell me all about your husband and get me to become him.”

“And you're actively avoiding trying to learn about him so you won’t remember our life together.”

“You want me to lose who I am.”

“No, I want you to be who you really are.”

Pity crosses his face. “This is who I am, doll, no matter how you will it otherwise.”

I close my eyes and force the threatening tears away. I know how much he hates it when I cry. 

I feel him sit next to me on the bushel of sticks. He folds his knife and puts it in his pocket. I don’t dare to hope he’s actually going to try to be kind…

“Seein’ as how this is a couples retreat, and we promised your children we’d come and try to make things work, I think that’s what we should do.”

“Wha…?” 

He holds up a hand, “Let me finish. The task the doctor set out for us was to do somethin’ friendly. Now, I don’t think either one of us has been very friendly.”

“I’ve been nothing but kind to you.”

“No, you’ve done nothin’ but infer how much you’d prefer I don’t be around.”

“I want you around.”

“No, you want your husband around. Pullin’ me in and pushin’ me away in the same breath ain’t very friendly. Not to mention, it isn’t very respectful, which is my criteria for this here activity.”

I sigh. That’s fair.

“And it’s not exactly compassionate and accepting, either, which are your criteria.”

“Now,” he continues, “let’s get to know each other, as friends. From what I understand, you were friends with Drew when he came into town, maybe we can be friendly, too.”

A laugh escapes my chest, “Friends with Drew...That’s an under-exaggeration.”

“Oh?”

“Drew and I almost got married...back before we knew he was Andrew Cain.”

“Oh!” Franco laughs.

I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it. I don’t think I dare tell him about covering up that Jake Doe was ‘Jason.’ It’s hardly going to get him to trust me.

“So, how do we do this friend thing?” I ask.

“Oh, I don’t know. You can tell me about yourself.”

I shrug, “I think you know a lot about me already. I have three boys. I’m a nurse.”

“You’re an artist?”

I nod. “I used to paint a lot more…” I lift the sketchbook in my hands and say, “I tend to go back to it when I’m struggling. I think it helps sort out what I’m thinking...how I’m feeling.”

“You have any pictures of stuff you’ve painted?”

I raise an eyebrow in disbelief, “You really want to see?”

“Sure.”

“Alright.” I reach for my phone in my pocket, hesitating only a moment before pulling it out. I open the album of pictures I’d taken of pieces from Jake, Franco, and my portfolios. I scroll through to find something I’m proud of.

“Wait, what’s that?” he asks.

I scroll back to find the picture he’s asking about. 

“There, there,” he says. “Is that a self portrait? You’re very talented.”

“Oh...uh no,” I flush. I’m not sure why I’m so embarrassed. “You painted it.”

I can feel him stiffen beside me. “Oh.” He’s staring intently at the picture. “May I?”

“Sure.” I hand over the phone. 

I’m not certain, but I think his eyes soften. “Your husband must’ve loved you very much. Idolized you, even.”

“Yeah, it’s certainly not true to form.”

“Oh, it is, just cast with a very specific light.”

He starts scrolling through some of Franco’s old pieces that were sold at his last show at Ava’s gallery. “These are darker than the portrait.”

“You painted those when you had a brain tumor. Your art changed when you had it removed. You changed...everything changed.”

He stops at the reflective painting of him and Drew when they were kids. “This is different, too.”

I smile, “You painted that of you and Drew in your childhood.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “I knew Franco in my childhood?”

“No one’s told you?”

He shakes his head.

I point to the painting. “You were adopted brothers. This is Andy, and this is Bobby. Your name at that time was ‘Robert Frank.’”

He freezes beside me. “Bobby? You’re saying I’m Bobby?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Last year, you struggled with remembering about the abuse you suffered from Jim Harvey, and how you protected Andy from getting hurt. He was your brother, and you saved him.”

“Jim Harvey abused Bobby?”

“Long-term sexual abuse. You protected Andy so he wouldn’t get hurt, too.”

Franco shakes his head trying to remember. “No, Bobby pushed me down the stairs. They sent me away, sayin’ he was dangerous.”

“Harvey was coming after Andy. You pushed him to protect him. You and Drew confronted Harvey last year. Drew killed him protecting you. You’ve been rebuilding your relationship as brothers ever since.”

Franco stares long and hard at the picture. He sucks in a breath and says, “Bobby protected me?”

I put my hand on his leg and say, “No, you protected him.”

He narrows his eyes, and I can’t tell if he’s trying to remember or not. Eventually, he just hands me back the phone and grows quiet.

“Franco was a good man, and Bobby was an incredible kid,” I say.

Franco stands and looks out into the wilderness. “There you go makin’ our ‘friendship’ about him again.”

And once again, my hope is deflated. One step forward, two steps back.

Alexis  
______________

My wariness of being on an inflatable canoe in the middle of the lake is tempered by the shirtless man in front of me paddling farther and farther away from shore. He’s built up a layer of sweat reflecting the light off his chiseled chest as he moves the paddle through the water on one side, then the other. His eyes periodically meet mine with that playful expression. 

“You look like you’re up to something,” I say.

He’s quiet, but his broad grin gives him away.

“That’s fine. I can be patient. It’s not like the view isn’t a pleasant distraction.” I watch his abs ripple with his next stroke through the water.

“Fond of lake and mountain scenery, Ms. Davis?”

“Indeed, doctor.” The water and the mountains are only a frame for the real picture. 

The canoe is quite sturdy for being inflatable, and far more comfortable than I anticipated. Neil is sitting erect at the stern end as he works at getting us where we’re going, and I’m reclined in the bow being very unhelpful, shaded by my large brimmed hat and sheer cover-up. I look down at the sheer fabric that is doing nothing to conceal my black bikini. Neil’s eyes linger, too, and he has to correct his path forward with a few strokes on the same side of the boat.

Finally, he stops paddling when we’re out in the middle of the lake. There are no other people anywhere in sight. He gives me that devilishly playful grin again, with his dark eyes hooded with promise.

“Ever canoe out to the middle of a secluded lake before?” he asks.

“No. My family was more apt to go yachting in the Mediterranean.”

“I can picture it...the Greek princess sunning off the French Riviera.”

“More like hiding away in my quarters so my stepmother wouldn’t notice me, occasionally stealing away to my brother’s room to borrow a few of his books to distract from the excruciating loneliness.”

“My heart breaks for little Natasha.”

“Sometimes, mine does, too.”

“So, this is a novel aquatic experience for you? Having a companion at sea?”

“Yes,” I chuckle. “It’s also novel for me to not have servants onboard to attend to my modest needs.” 

His grin returns, “Oh, I’d have to disagree with that.”

“Oh?”

Neil reaches down in the crook of canoe and pulls out sunblock. “I am quite at your service, princess, and I notice you didn’t apply sunblock before coming out on the lake on this cloudless day.” His crooked smirk is promising a whole lot more than sun protection. “May I?”

I lick my lips and nod my consent.

Neil carefully crawls forward until he’s kneeling between my legs. He puts the bottle on his lap as he reaches down to the buttons on my coverup. One by one he lets them loose. I sit up so he can pull the fabric off my shoulders. 

“Lie down on your belly,” he instructs. 

After we cautiously maneuver ourselves so I’m lying flat and he’s sitting astride my upper thighs, I realize why he chose the inflatable canoe rather than a hard surface. I’m quite comfortable in this position. 

I hear the lid of the sunblock pop open. 

“This might be a little...simulating,” he warns with a deep chuckle.

The breath leaves my lungs as he squeezes the cold sunblock directly on my back. He’s let out far more than my body needs, and his hands set to work on rubbing it in. His hands are a lot like his tongue; they move in that same slow and sensual manner. The lotion warms as it pulls heat from my body. I can’t tell if I’m so hot from the sun, or from the arousal that’s been building since the drive.

“So what were you reading while hidden away on the family yacht avoiding notice of your evil stepmother?”

“Stefan demanded I read practical things, like his textbooks and such, so I could grow to be useful to the family, but sometimes I’d steal his Dostoevsky or Tolstoy. One of the servants had a collection of British literature she’d let me read.”

“Did you connect with Fanny Price, by chance? Pulled into a whole new family a world away from what you’d known?”

“Hardly.”

“You didn’t fancy yourself falling for an Edmund?”

“Maybe you don’t remember, but I’ve always been more attracted to the Heathcliffs of the world than the Edmunds.”

His hands move to my shoulders and neck, rubbing the lotion in and the tension out. I feel a tug on my suit, and he’s pulled out the knot I’ve tied at my neck. 

“I do recall. Is that still the case? Are you still attracted to the Healthcliffs, or has all your experience and self-reflection changed the kind of man you’re attracted to?”

I peer over my shoulder and look at the object of my attraction. “I guess time will tell what kind of man he is…”

“Indeed, it will.”

I settle back into my comfortable position as his hands make their way down my arms. “How about you, Neil? Did you spent your youth camping in the wilderness, taking young women on romantic canoe rides, wooing them into your sleeping bag?”

He laughs, “I’ve always been more of a solitary camper. Joanna would come with me sometimes, but…” his voice drops.

We both know what happened to his daughter.

Landmines. Landmines everywhere... 

Thankfully, he’s undeterred from protecting me from the sun’s harmful rays, and his hands massage down my back.

He unties the back of my swimsuit and lets the straps fall to aside. He rubs gently over my ribs teasing the edges of my breasts. I probably should just shut my mouth and not ruin this all too sensual moment. 

Of course, I can’t though. 

“How about your parents?” I ask. “You haven’t told me anything about them.”

He laughs, “They’re a little different from your parents. They’re living in Florida. My father spends his time golfing and managing his portfolio, while my mother lives in a constant state of redecoration of their beach house.”

“So, you had a normal childhood? What was that like?”

He laughs. “You know how it is...overindulgence by mom, emotional neglect by dad, never living up to his expectations...yada, yada, yada…”

“I’m guessing the good doctor has worked through all his mommy and daddy issues?”

His rumbling chuckle sounds a little ominous. “I’m a work in progress...as are we all.”

His hands move down the small of my back to the edge of the bottoms of my swimsuit. He hesitates, tracing the line where skin meets fabric. I wonder if he’s going to go there…

Then his fingers hook my suit and pull it down in a quick motion. I whimper as he maneuvers it off my legs. I’m completely naked beneath him, now.

“Mmmm,” he rumbles. 

Another click of the bottle, and I’m shocked by more sunblock being poured on my ass. When his hands start massaging it in, a different kind of tension takes over my body. My hips can’t decide if they want to rub my sex against the bottom of the boat, or lift my ass further into his hands. The result is me moaning and squirming as he grabs handfuls of flesh, squeezing deep into my soft tissue.

I feel him lean over my back and rumble in my ear, “Oh, Alexis, those little sounds you make are a fucking turn on.”

He leaves a trail of kisses down my neck as he resumes his massage. My good doctor is surprisingly task-oriented, and leaves my ass to attend to my thighs and legs.

“I think this is the quietest you’ve been since I met you,” he teases. “We’re trying a new kind of therapy for those racing thoughts of yours now.” He grabs me by the hip and rolls me over, spreading my legs before him. 

Neil is looming over me. He looks bigger than he ever has before, muscles straining and taught in anticipation. He’s still wearing his swim trunks, but his erection is obvious. My heart is thundering and taken aback by this dominant Neil.

“You’re beautiful, Alexis. I knew you would be, but that knowledge didn’t prepare me for this.”

He’s done a great job of taking all my thoughts and words away with this new brand of therapy. And he’s too far away for me to reach up and touch, so I lie here squirming and panting in anticipation.

He reaches for the sunblock once again. He speaks as he opens it and holds it over my body, “You wanna know why I brought you out here for this?”

He squeezes the bottle and the lotion splatters all over my chest and stomach. “I wanted my first time seeing you to be just like this…” His hands are on my chest. “No distractions...just you laid out in front of me in the natural sunlight...completely exposed...learning every piece of you.” 

He rubs the lotion over my chest, massaging the muscles, squeezing my breasts. 

“Tell me what your thinking, Alexis.”

I shake my head to clear the buzzing in my brain, and try to connect it back to my mouth. “I...I wasn’t expecting this for our first time...I wasn’t expecting YOU like this…”

“I’m not such an Edmund, after all.”

“Definitely, not an Edmund.”

“Is this ok?” his face softens. 

“Yeah, Neil. This is more than ok.”

He finishes my rubdown in silent admiration. My body gets carried away with his hands on my ribs, my stomach, my inner thighs. He’s touched me everywhere BUT THERE, and I’m revved up and desperate for it to happen.

He’s up on his knees gazing around the lake one more time, hopefully ensuring we’re still alone. He must be satisfied because his eyes drop down and continue their admiration of me. His thumbs hook his trunks and pull them down, exposing his impressive, sizable cock.

Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.

Finally, he bends over me and his lips meet mine. It’s a good kiss, a thorough kiss, but my body is left unsatisfied without his full weight on top of me and without his cock pressing into me. When his mouth starts moving down my neck, I realize his plan is not to fuck me quite yet, but to please me…

“Oh God,” my hips are dying for my pussy to get contact with some part of him, and the thought of it being with his mouth has them rolling in impatience. 

He gives that playful chuckle as he kisses down my body. His hands are spreading my legs even further apart, hooking them over each side of the inflatable canoe. He grips my ass as he brings his mouth down to my sex. His hot breath and gentle lips graze over my sensitive skin. I can’t tell if he’s teasing or appreciating, but it’s driving me mad. 

My hips thrust up to press harder against him, and his mouth opens to suck me up and lick inside. Thank God! But it’s not relief I feel as he zeros in on my clitoris and takes a deep pull, but desperate hunger for more. I try thrusting up again, but his arms have snaked around my thighs and are holding me still. 

It’s been over a year since a man has made me come, and my body is more desperate for it than I realized. I’m whimpering, and squealing, and whining for more, and Neil seems to be loving every bit of this torture. He licks my clit, teasing, but as soon as orgasm is about to come, he pulls away and licks deep in my pussy. And when that is about to make me come, he stops and rains kisses over my labia. 

“Neil, please,” I beg. I need it so damn bad. “Please.”

He makes a groaning rumble, and I think he’s telling me how much he likes it when I beg...the good doctor has some kink. He licks his hot, wet tongue more purposefully against my clit. Jesus Christ, he’s flicking it up and down and back and forth. My hands are tangled in his constantly scruffy hair, keeping his head still, lest he tease me again. But he’s not teasing anymore...he’s kissing my pussy with the urgency my body demands. 

And I come...loud and wet and so euphoric it’s almost painful. I can barely hear my screams over the buzzing of my brain. He licks me the whole way through, drawing it out as long as much body will allow.

I nearly forgot how good orgasm could be when someone else does it to me. He doesn’t let me sit and ponder for too long, because he’s climbing over me with his hard cock and hunger in his eyes. 

Eager for more, I lift up to grab him and yank him down to kiss me again. His arm slips, and his body tips left. Oh no, he’s falling to the side, tipping the canoe, and gravity changes direction on me.

I’m under water...

The cold steals the air from my lungs, disorienting my sense of direction. I feel Neil grabbing my arm, and pulling me up toward the surface. I kick up to help get us there. 

“You ok?” he asks as we tread water.

“I’m fine.” My wet hair is in my eyes, and I’m sure my makeup is running down my face. I

“I’m going to make sure our clothes don’t sink.” He goes to the canoe and flips it right side up as I pathetically try to fix my appearance. He grabs our clothes, the paddle, and that ever memorable bottle of sunblock, and tosses them in the boat.

I can’t help my laughter thinking about how my eagerness got us here, naked and capsized in the middle of the lake. Neil is laughing too as he makes his way back to me.

“I’m sorry,” I say between peals of laughter. “I was a little excited.”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm.” He pulls me close and kisses me with smiling lips. We sink a little, but we don’t stop the kiss until I run out of air. 

Neil helps me back in the boat, then he carefully climbs back in himself. There are a lot of slippery limbs and naked parts flailing...at least on my part. Neil is surprisingly athletic and intentional with his body. 

When we’re both back on the boat, he’s laying over me and looking into my eyes with the sweetest affection, caressing my cheek.

“Was this fun?” he asks.

I nod. 

“An adventure?”

“This was certainly an adventure.”

“We got to see a different side of each other?”

“Oh, I’d say we saw each other from more angles than I ever expected.”

His laugh is delicious. I think I’m growing quite fond of making Neil laugh. He kisses me again, and I’m thinking again about the novelty to firsts, and how I wouldn’t want to share these firsts with anyone else...and how this might just be the first time I’ve combined a lover and friend successfully.

Anna  
______________

Dusk is bringing out all the evening critters and bugs, so I reluctantly make my way back to camp. It’s a lively place with people eating by the campfire and talking about their activities. I bypass the crowd and make my way to my cabin. I’m surprised to find it empty.

Genuine concern for Finn’s physical health has me braving the campfire to find him. He’s not there, but Alexis is chatting with Diane.

“Remind me to bring a yoga mat next time I go hiking,” says Diane. “My skin is getting far too sensitive to bareback those rocks.”

Oh Lord. I interrupt quickly so I don’t have to hear anymore. “Alexis? Do you know where I can find Finn?”

“Um, yes,” she says, with one of her scrutinous lawyer looks. I know she’s wondering what the hell is going on, but she’s astute enough not to ask. “He’s in Nina’s cabin. She’s ill, and he can’t move his foot to keep checking in on her, so they’ve set up an extra bed next to her.”

I look to Nina and Valentin’s cabin. Valentin is leaning against the wall with a weary look in his eyes.

“Thank you, Alexis,” I say without looking back to her. I walk to Valentin for more information.

“Hello,” I say. 

“Good to see you made it back,” he says. He tries to sound like he doesn’t mean it, but I know he does. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t at all difficult to get Nina back to camp, then come back for Finn. You’re welcome by the way.”

I shrug. He could’ve left Finn there for all I care.

Valentin chuckles. “He must’ve done something really terrible.”

Like I’d ever trust Valentin enough to tell him anything personal. “How’s Nina?”

He hangs his head. “Not well. Finn doesn’t think it would be a good idea to move her at this point, but she’s vomiting profusely, and her fever made her a little delirious.”

“Is it serious?”

“Pretty bad food poisoning from the berries, but Finn has everything he needs here to take care of her. She wants me to continue to do the retreat without her and report back everything I’ve missed.”

“Why are you out here and not inside with her?”

He grinds his teeth, “Like I said, the fever’s making her mildly delirious. She wasn’t recognizing me, and my presence agitated her. She’s mistaken Finn for her ex husband, and only wants him around.”

“Well, I don’t think either of us were expecting our partners to be sleeping with someone else on this trip.”

Valentin laughed. “I was going to ask if I could sleep in your room. I don’t want to freak Nina out.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “You really think I’m the best person to ask? You do know I sleep with both knives and firearms under my pillow?”

He laughs, “I’m not certain who else to ask. The rest of the couples here will probably be...enhancing their friendship this evening, I’d imagine.”

The door to Valentin’s cabin opens, and Dr. Byrne comes out.

“How is she, doc?” says Valentin.

“She’s resting, and her fever is being managed. Finn and I will keep checking throughout the night. Did you find a place to stay?”

Valentin looks to me with a raised eyebrow. 

“You can’t possibly think I’d allow you to sleep near me?”

He laughs, “You don’t believe I’d ever hurt you?”

I raise an eyebrow at him…

“I mean...now that I know about Alex.”

Dr. Byrne just pats Valentin on the arm, “Let me know if you need a place to sleep.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my sister would love it if I joined the two of you.” Valentin calls as Dr. Byrne walks down to meet Alexis. He turns back to me. “Come on. Save me from enduring a romantic night with my sister and the shrink.”

“I don’t understand why I have to be punished in this situation.”

“Anna…” Valentin has his way of softening his eyes so you almost forget he’s a Cassadine.

“Oh, fine. Fine. You can sleep on the floor in the opposite corner of the room.

“Thank you. I promise I’ll behave myself,” he grins.

“I don’t believe that for a second. Now, come on. Let’s get some dinner. It doesn’t do Nina any good to starve yourself.”

Franco  
______________

She’s a nice woman when she’s not constantly telling me I don’t exist. And she’s pretty. A real beautiful kind of pretty. Like a porcelain doll. I’m sure she’s heard that before. I can see why he fell in love with her...why ‘I’ fell in love with her.

One by one, we’ve watched each of the couples go to bed. The shrink and the lawyer were first to leave with tellin’ smiles on their faces. The other lawyer and bodyguard were next, but they didn’t fall asleep until about twenty minutes ago after the screams quieted from their cabin. The spy and the businessman went to her room shortly after...no screams have come out of that cabin, and if they did, I’d be worried I’d have to go in there with a weapon drawn.

It’s just us now. I’m tired as hell, but there’s only one bed in our tiny cabin, and a small bed at that. The body heat will be nice as the temperature is already droppin’, but I worry what might happen with us so close. 

I’d hate to reject her if she made a move. Not that I’d reject her because she’s not sexy, nor that I wouldn’t want to fuck her, but I worry sex with that woman would give her a false hope for somethin’ that could never be.

Why the fuck did I agree to this?

I know why. Those sad little boys wantin’ their daddy back. Poor things. I hated seein’ tears. I haven’t had to see so many tears in all my life. I just don’t know what the hell to do when someone’s cryin’. 

We’ve both already cleaned up and brushed our teeth, draggin’ out nightly rituals to avoid that bed. We can’t avoid it any longer.

Elizabeth looks to me with nervous eyes. “I’m tired.”

“Me, too. Come on, doll.”

I cover the fire and then follow her back to our cabin. I lock us in and close all the windows. When I turn around, Elizabeth has her suitcase open, and is lookin’ inside like she’s contemplatin’ what to wear. One hand is on a ratty ol’ t-shirt, and the other on somethin’ red and silky.

My cock stirs at the idea of sleepin’ next to that woman wearin’ nothin’ but a little piece of fabric. 

Please don’t pick the silk. Please don’t do it. I look at her petite, little body, and that fuckin’ slip might just undo all this resolve I built up.

She pulls out the t-shirt, thank goodness. 

Elizabeth looks my way, and I turn around to give her some privacy. When I hear her takin’ off her clothes, I start doin’ the same. I leave on my briefs to sleep in. 

A part of me almost feels guilty...like I’m cheatin’ on Kim havin’ such unclean thoughts about Elizabeth, even though Kim’s picked that Charlie character. I push the thought away. I owe nothin’ to the woman. Hell, I’m not even Drew, right?

When Elizabeth’s not makin’ sounds anymore, I turn back around. 

Fuck.

That goddamn t-shirt ain’t no fuckin’ better than the silk. It must’ve been one my ol’ ones, and it’s so worn, there’s holes in the damn thing givin’ glimpses of her pale skin and tight belly. The cotton hangs off her tits in a way I can see exactly what they’d look like without the damn shirt on. Her hard nipples ain’t helpin’ either. 

Her tits rise up real nice when she takes deep breath, and her nervous exhale makes me realize I’m starin’ like a fuckin’ teenager. I lift my gaze to her eyes. 

Now, I know an aroused woman when I see one, and this woman is no different. Her tongue runs over her dry lips makin’ em a pretty, sparklin’ shade of pink. Her blue eyes are damn near glowin’ in the weak light. And I can see her thighs under that shirt squeezin’ together to cool some achin’ need. 

I look down and realize my cock is strainin’ against my briefs. I turn around real quick and shut off the light. I grab the shirt I was just wearin’ and put it back on.

Elizabeth exhales, and I hear her climbin’ into bed. She’s as close as she can be to the wall. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down before headin’ over. 

“I promise I won’t do anything I shouldn’t. You don’t have to worry about me.” I try to reassure myself as much as her.

She just nods her pretty head.

I climb into bed next to her, stayin’ as far away as I can manage without fallin’ off the tiny bed. Our legs touch briefly, and I try not to think of how silky smooth they felt, or how nice it’d be to lay between them…

Fuck. 

I force myself to close my eyes and start countin’ sheep. This is gonna be a long, damn night, and an even longer weekend.

_______________________

“Go!...I told you to get down!...Go!” 

He’s coming...I push Andy down the stairs.

Oh, no...What have I done?

“Andy?”

“What have you done, Bobby?!”

_______________________

The terror of not knowing what’s going to happen to Andy startles me awake.

Or maybe it’s the shakin’.

Elizabeth is shaking me, “Franco, wake up, baby. It’s ok. It’s just a dream. It’s not real. Wake up. He’s dead. Jim Harvey’s dead. He can’t hurt you again.”

I suck in fast, shallow breaths, and try to figure out where the hell I am.

“You’re ok, Franco. You’re here with me. You’re safe, baby. I’m here.”

I’m calmed by the soft voice. More so, I’m calmed by the gentle arms holding me tight. Her hands are stroking my hair as she whispers her comforting words over and over. 

“You’re safe. You’re with me.”

I realize my arms are around her, too. I’m pullin’ her in tight, tryin’ to keep those ghosts away. Part of me knows there’s some reason I shouldn’t be holdin’ this woman, but a stronger part of me is afraid to let her go...Like Harvey might come back after me. After Andy...

...Except Jim Harvey never hurt me. He’s was always fine. He preferred Bobby to me, but he didn’t mistreat me.

But in the dream I wasn’t Andy. I was Bobby.

I’m so fuckin’ confused.

It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. 

Franco’s memory.

I pull away from Elizabeth and sit up on my own. I take in my surroundings and make sure there are no threats.

It’s a strange thing to remember being both Andy and Bobby. I have memories of both right now. The same situation. I remember pushin’ and bein’ pushed.

I look to Elizabeth. “Does this happen a lot?”

She shakes her head. “Less and less as time goes on. More when you’re stressed.”

“That picture...that paintin’ I made. It must’ve triggered somethin’.”

Her face looks pained. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what would happen if I showed you.”

I take a deep shuddering, breath. “How long does it take for this feelin’ in my gut to go away?”

She smiles. “That depends…”

“On?”

“On how we typically choose to distract you.”

Shit. She means sex.

I lay back and surrender to the shitty feeling. 

She tentatively touches my arm, and I don’t have it in me to shrink away. She does make me feel better. I think that kinda makes me a coward.

I think she can see she makes me feel better.

“You were good brother,” she says. “And you’re a good man.”

I just nod. I have no fight in me right now.

She moves closer and wipes the sweat off my brow. I close my eyes and let her calm me. She strokes my face over and over and over…

She’s still touching me long after my body’s settled. 

When I wake a few hours later with her wrapped in my arms, I don’t dare let go...the ghosts might come back...


	2. Deepen Your Understanding of Each Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks @Adelheide1121 & @SoapTweetsGH for your help!

Elizabeth  
______________

Franco’s gone when I wake. His absence feels like defeat. I thought we turned a corner last night when he accepted my comfort for his nightmares.

More importantly, he remembered his trauma. His subconscious forced him to see reality when nothing else could. Pleasure at comforting him, and hope for a domino effect of recollection helped me drift off to sleep despite my myriad of worries. And waking up multiple times wrapped in his arms had me certain my Franco was returning.

Now, I’m not so sure. If he was on track to remembering, he wouldn’t leave my side. He’d be too eager to tell me about his memories, too eager to tell me how much he loves me to go anywhere else. The more I think about it, the more certain I am no progress has been made, at all.

I take a moment to settle my emotional lability before gathering necessities for my morning routine. The first meeting of the day is going to start in about an hour, and I don’t want to be late again. 

The bathrooms are a short hike away, and as I make the jaunt, the rest of the camp shows early signs of stirring. Valentin is coming out of the dining hall with a cup of coffee and a bowl of fruit. Finn is practicing walking around with something that looks like it was once a wooden paddle from a canoe, but someone helped him make it a crutch. 

They’re too busy with their own business to even notice me, and I’m make it to the bathrooms with no interruptions. I reach for the doorknob just as the door opens of its own accord. 

It’s Franco. The look in his wide eyes as he sees me is more than surprise...maybe a little fear. But almost instantly, his newly acquired mask of indifference is painted back on. 

“Good morning,” I say.

“Hi.” His eyes dart in a different direction as his cheeks flush. He looks ashamed for some reason.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” He steps aside and waves me through. “The shower on the end is free.”

Apparently, he’s not going to acknowledge what happened last night. I try not to let my disappointment show. I know how much he hates when I emote. I step past him and head toward the shower. 

“Elizabeth…”

“Hmm?” 

I turn to see him digging in his bag. He finds what he’s looking for, and holds out his hand to give it to me. I accept his offer, and he releases a handful of quarters into my open palm. “You’ll need ’em for hot water in the showers. Must be a preservation tactic, or somethin’.”

“Oh...thank you.”

He meets my gaze, and for the briefest of moments, there’s a softness in his hazel eyes that I haven’t seen since...since before.

It’s gone so quickly, I almost think I imagined it. He leaves, and the door slams shut. I go to the shower and spend four quarters worth of hot water trying to figure out how I can get that look to stay a little longer next time.

Neil  
___________________

I’ve never felt anything as soft as her skin. The smoothest of silks and the finest satin feel grating in comparison. It’s so soft, in fact, it gives the illusion of being delicate to the touch...but that’s truly a misconception. Much like her spirit, her body is surprisingly resilient. Actually, it’s more than resilient, which implies a certain passive endurance. Alexis is an active lover...vigorous...tenacious. 

I knew she would be. 

The subject of sex was mostly avoided in therapy, likely related to the overt transference/countertransference of therapist and patient, but the implication was there. Her pattern of unstable, passionate relationships could only lead one to believe her sex life to be as explosive as the end of her last marriage.

I push the encroaching shame away for starting a relationship with an ex-patient. We did things the right way...sort of.

Christ, you only live once, and was I really supposed to let this woman get away? Absolutely not. So fuck off, superego. Let the goddamn id have a go.

My gluttonous hands lack inhibition as they trace over her exceptionally soft skin. She’s draped over me like a blanket after a long night of the best damn sex I’ve ever had.

Vanilla never tasted so sweet.

The only thing that might be as soft as her skin is her hair. God, it smells good. I nuzzle into the scent of indiscernible flowers and fruit, and I remember burying my face in it mid orgasm last night.

I need to get up and shower to prepare for the day. I smell of sex, sweat, and Alexis, and even though there are no sweeter scents, I’m not certain my clients on this retreat would appreciate how lacking their partners are in comparison. But I can’t move. If I move, I may disturb the sleeping beauty on top of me, or worse, I’ll have to leave her behind, unbearable, even for a short period.

Get up, Neil. You have access to the woman all weekend. Jesus Christ, if you play your cards right, you might have access to her for a lifetime.

Don’t fucking get too ahead of yourself. She doesn’t know all your dirty, little secrets...not yet.

There’s a brief drop in my mood at the fear of rejection, and it only makes me want to cling to the woman tighter.

Get your ass out of bed, Byrne!

I shift my body ever so gently to minimize the disturbance. Instead of rolling off, she inhales a deep breath and stretches her arms before wrapping them around me.

Damn, that feels good. 

“You’re trying to escape,” she mumbles with her eyes closed.

“I’m trying to let you sleep while I get ready for the next meeting.”

She gives a lazy smirk as she speaks, so there’s no edge to her words when she says, “I don’t even get a ‘good morning’ after our roll in hay?”

I’m living for the sexy, morning rasp in her teasing voice. The shower can wait; I need to get this woman’s heart racing.

I grip her around the waist, and flip over so she lays beneath me. Her dark, chocolate eyes are wide open now, and her lazy grin is replaced with her tongue tracing her lips.

“Good morning, Alexis,” I say as softly.

“Good morning, Neil.” She’s breathless.

“Did you sleep well?” 

As she responds, I lay gentle kisses across her cheekbones and on the tip of her nose. “Yes...well, when we actually tried to sleep, I slept just fine.”

“Was it a good night for you? The part where you weren’t sleeping, I mean.”

“A perfect night. And I was actually hoping for a perfect morning before I realized you were trying to sneak away.”

“Tell me, princess,” I kiss the soft skin of her cheeks, “what would make this a perfect morning for you?”

“Mmm...this is a good start. And maybe you can do that thing you did yesterday?”

“The thing that landed us naked in the lake?”

Her chest bounces under me in a quiet laugh, “No, we’ll skip the water play this morning. I was thinking more of the thing you did when we came back here and shared a bed for the first time.”

“Oh, I remember…” I line my cock up between her spread legs and push gently in. She gives a whimpering sigh that’s one helluva stroke to my ego. “This is what you want?”

She nods, “More.”

I pull out and push back in, watching her eyes lose focus. It’s a beautiful fucking thing to see this woman caught up in her pleasure. And so easy! She’s like this without even trying. She wakes up like this. How effortless it would be to get her to a state of transient hypofrontality. How natural it would be for me to enter my own state of flow.

Oh, the things we could do together...Oh the places we’ll go…

As I fuck into her, I can tell she’s been starved for affection for too long. We just started, and her hips are urging mine on, eager to reach orgasm. Since I’m running behind, and we don’t have time to drag this out, I let it happen. I speed my hips, and give her what she craves.

I can’t wait to give her so much more than this...I can’t wait to make her transcendent. This woman deserves all the pleasure in the world after everything she’s been through.

She seals her mouth against mine, pulling my body close with her arms around my back and her legs around my hips. The growing need in my cock is taking all the rational thought from my brain. I just need to come inside her; I need to have my cum inside her. Her impatience has become my impatience, and I fuck harder and harder, desperate to get her to climax and find my own release.

She rolls her hips, and her body tenses one last time. She’s squeezing me so tight, it’s nearly pushing my cock out. I drive in, letting her tight pussy milk me with it’s greedy pulls. 

My abdomen, already tense with exertion, tightens deep inside, and pleasure shoots down my cock and up to my brain. I grunt as my hips stutter their movement, lost in the feeling of coming with this woman.

Those dark eyes are watching me in the sweetest, softest way. Her hands cradle my face as my world comes back into focus. I know that look in her eyes, and I’m certain it’s reflected in mine, too. It hits me in the gut harder than climax every could.

I don’t know why I’m so surprised, we’ve known each other for nine months now. We’ve spent week after week engaged in the most intimate of conversation. We saved her daughter together. I’d be crazy to think sex wouldn’t bring us to this point. 

She’s bared her soul to me…and I’m falling her.

I’m crazy about her. Now, my greatest fear is that she’s going to learn everything about me, and this adoring look in her eyes will disappear…

Stop. Don’t ruin the moment. Give the woman her perfect morning. Enjoy her for as long as she’ll have you.

I kiss her and wrap her up in my affection, hoping she won’t push me away...that she’ll give this a chance when she finds out everything.

Anna  
___________________

Showers are such a luxury in the wild. I remember once, when Robert and I were running from the DVX and hiding in the European wilderness, what we would’ve given for a hot shower. We found other ways to keep warm...dancing around the fire...making love…Robert was always there for me, and I for him. 

I really thought it would be the same with Finn. 

I hurry and rinse the conditioner from my hair. I’d rather not use an additional and unnecessary quarter on hot water just because I’m wallowing in self-pity.

A knock sounds at my shower stall. “Anna?”

“Finn?” I crack open the door and peek out. Finn is standing there with a makeshift crutch for his hurt ankle. 

He’s sees my questioning gaze and says, “Franco made it for me from twine, a paddle, and some firewood. Can I come in?”

I step back and let him in. He’s clumsy on his hurt foot, so I help close the door behind him. 

“What do you want?”

He sets the crutch aside. “This.” He takes a pained step forward and pulls me in for a kiss. I’m naked and wet, and he’s fully clothed. The hot water is pouring down on us, and it’s all such a whirlwind of sensation. 

My hands tangle in his hair as his run up and down my body. He grabs hold of my ass, grinding me against him. Damn, I’d forgotten how good he feels. His erection is pressing into my belly in the most promising way. It’s been about six months since we’ve been together like this.

Then, I remember why we didn’t get our romantic reunion upon my return…

Suddenly, his kisses taste sour, and his hands feel clumsy. I need him off me. I need him far, far away. “Stop.”

“Anna, please,” he begs.

I hear a soft clicking of a timer speeding…

“I need you, Anna.”

“You need me?” I don’t buy that for a second. He needs whatever woman is in front of him. Pettiness is bringing out my vengeful side. “Well, since you NEED me…”

I pull him in for another kiss and angle his back toward the shower so he’s getting the full blast of water. His weak foot has him at my mercy. It only takes a few more seconds for the timer to run out…

“Oh, shit! It’s freezing!” 

I step back and grab my towel off the hook as he cringes and leaps for the nozzle. I wrap the towel around me as I step out of the stall, and make sure to close the door behind me. 

He should thank me for that cold shower. His aching cock is going to need it.

Neil  
______________

“Look at your partner. Look in their eyes. Do you know what they’re thinking? Do you know what they’re feeling? What they want? What they need?”

I look to Alexis who’s smiling relaxed and serene, probably from all the endorphins still clouding her brain. I give her a wink before moving my gaze around the circle. The couples are staring at each other around the firepit, some embracing the exercise (Max and Diane), the others suffering through it (Franco and Elizabeth). Nina and Finn are both missing since she had another vomiting spell just before this meeting, so Anna and Valentin are sitting next to empty chairs, staring off in different directions. 

I press on, “Human beings crave understanding, and we crave being understood. Attachment to our partner intensifies when we believe our partner ‘gets’ us. Understanding brings closeness. 

“Another benefit to understanding is that when we’re understood, our partners are more likely to meet our needs because they know WHY that need is so important to us. And the same goes for us meeting their needs.”

I reach for Alexis’s hand as I keep talking. I justify this as modeling intimacy for my clients, but really, I’m just growing addicted to her touch.

“So, how do we start this journey of understanding each other on a deeper level? First, we have to understand ourselves. How can we expect our partners to know who we are if we don’t have a clue? So, ask yourself, ‘Who am I?’...‘What makes me ME?’”

I give the group a moment to consider. Poor Franco looks confused as hell. 

When most of the couples look ready to move on, I continue, “Then, ask yourself what it is you want more than anything in the world? What do you want in life?...in family?...at work?...in your relationship?...and so on. 

I give them another moment. I consider my own wants and needs. My heart is racing thinking about telling Alexis what I want. Fear, excitement, arousal...so many emotions wash over me at once.

I better move on before I get carried away…

“The next step is to tell your partner what you’ve come up with. Now, here’s where it gets tricky...if you’re asking your partner to help meet one of your needs, you can’t focus on what you DON’T want. All that leads to is criticism. Criticism is one of the four horsemen of the relational apocalypse. For example, if you say, ‘What I want is for my wife to spend less money,’ then what your wife is going to hear is you being critical of her spending habits.

“Instead, tell your partner what you DO want. Make it about you and your feelings, wants, and needs, rather than what your partner is doing wrong. For example, ‘I feel anxious about our future, because we don’t have a substantial savings. I’d like for us to set aside another thousand dollars a month into our savings account.’

“Do you see the difference?”

“Yes!” says Max. “That’s great, man.”

“And what if,” says Franco, “you and your partner just don’t want the same things?”

“Good question. Ideally, we always want to find win-win situations where everyone gets what they want. Realistically, most couples resort to compromise. Some couples can’t find a suitable solution, and they come to an impasse. They’re forced to revisit this problem over and over. If compromise is unreachable and impasse is unsustainable, the couple may choose dissolution.”

“Breaking up, you mean?” asks Anna.

I nod my head. “You’re here to try to make your relationship work, which means you want to avoid dissolution if possible, but that doesn’t mean all couples should remain together if they’re not a good fit.

“This morning’s exercise is all about being curious. Talk to each other. Ask questions. Learn everything about your partner you possible can. Learn about their families of origin, the cultures they grew up in, their religion or spirituality. Learn their vulnerabilities and their strengths. Encourage their deepest thoughts. Admire them for sharing.”

I hand out a piece of paper with guidelines for communication. “Here’s the soundest piece of advice I can give you...Be a safe place for your partner to tell their truth. Don’t criticize. Understand where they’re coming from and validate them. If you disagree with a request they make of you, validation goes a long way in stopping this from becoming an unproductive shouting match. If things go south, stick to your feelings, wants, and needs. Stick to your partner’s feelings, wants and needs.

“Go explore your beautiful surroundings, and find a private place to deepen your understanding of each other. Our next meeting will be tonight at seven o’clock, just after dinner.”

As the couples turn to each other to plan their morning, I look to Alexis. Her hair is up in a cute little ponytail, and she’s wearing sneakers and comfortable clothes. I think I might like this woman out of her high heels and suits even more than I like her in them.

“Well,” she says, her bright eyes alight with humor, “we’ve spent the last eight months learning all about what makes me tick; I think it’s time I delve more into your psyche.”

My heart is beating painfully fast at the thought. It’s time to really let her in. It’s time I tell her why my marriage failed.

“Um...Dr. Byrne?” A voice interrupts. “Can I talk to you privately a moment?” Elizabeth is standing in front of my chair, moving nervously on the balls of her feet. Franco is sitting in his seat with his lips sealed in that stoic expression. 

I turn to Alexis, “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

I squeeze her hand before leading Elizabeth away from the circle. There’s a tree just down the way that appears to have been felled by a storm. I lead Elizabeth to sit, and invite her with a gesture to speak freely.

“I know you’re not our therapist, so I won’t get into things too deeply, but I need some guidance for this exercise.”

“Of course.”

The way she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before she speaks shows her thoughtfulness and intentionality. “I don’t know how to do this activity. You’re asking me to talk to Franco about what makes me ME. I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

The air leaves her lungs, and the speed at which a tear drops down her cheek shows just how close to the surface her tears have been, “I don’t trust him.”

“How so? Do you think he would hurt you? Use the information against you?”

“No, nothing like that. He...he shuts me down when I cry. He gets agitated and...and mean. I’ve had some defining life experiences that I can’t talk about without being incredibly vulnerable, and there’s no way I could share them with that man. Not to mention, all the mistakes I’ve made...I’m afraid they’ll drive him away.”

“I see.”

“What should I do?”

“Elizabeth,” my voice is tentative, “you can’t expect depth of connection without getting vulnerable. Being vulnerable without trust is a difficult thing.”

“Exactly. And that’s not all...I’m not sure I can listen and validate him like you’re suggesting. He’s Franco, but sees himself as Andrew Cain. That’s a delusion that he’s clinging to. How can I validate his experience when I think his experience is irrational? What I really want is my husband back.”

“Oh, now, that’s an age old therapeutic question. Research shows that in order to help a person change, one must show unconditional positive regard, empathy, genuineness, and a whole bunch of other traits that essentially boil down to loving the human being sitting across from you...accepting and loving the person AS THEY ARE. Yet how can we do that when we want them to change?”

“You’re saying I have to love Franco as he is if I want him to become the man I need?”

“I’m saying you’re only going to push him away if he doesn’t feel understood and respected, no matter who he is.”

“And what if I can’t love that man?”

“Then you have choices you need to make about how much of yourself you want to sink into changing a man who doesn’t want to change.”

More tears fall.

“Find common ground, Elizabeth. All humans have common ground. Start with one thing you can understand about him. One thing you can love about him. Build from there.”

“And what about my fears of being vulnerable to him?”

I shrug, “If you want to make a go of it, you’ve got to get vulnerable. Expect that you’re going to get hurt. Expect your heart is going to break a few times. Is he worth it?”

“My husband is worth it.”

“Then do what you’ve got to do. You’re strong enough to piece yourself back together if it doesn’t work out. Something tells me you’ve done it before; you can do it again.”

She takes another of her deep breaths and centers herself as she considers my words. “Thank you, doctor.”

We make our way back to camp, and I’m surprised to see the only people who’ve left their seats are Max and Diane. Elizabeth heads straight to Franco and invites him to leave the circle with her. He’s outwardly ever the gentleman, and I can’t help but hope those two find their way.

“Sorry about that,” I tell Alexis, who’s sitting right where I left her, and avoiding conversation with the other two people in the circle, her brother and her ex-lover’s fiance.

“No problem.” She bounces up, looking relieved to exit present company. “Where should we go to talk?”

“Definitely not a canoe.” 

“Pardon, Dr. Byrne?” says Anna.

I hold back my groan of impatience as I turn to her. “Yes?”

“Could you spare a moment?”

“Of course.” I look to Alexis…

“I’ll be right here,” she says.

I give her an apologetic look over my shoulder as I escort Anna to the same tree I just took Elizabeth.

“How can I help you, Anna?”

Anna purses her lips and sizes me up. Her hesitation, unlike Elizabeth is obviously not about gathering her thoughts...it’s about trust. “What I say stays between the two of us, right?” She looks back toward the campgrounds, and I’m sure she’s talking about Alexis.

“I’m not your therapist, per se, so I’m not legally bound by confidentiality, but out of respect for the integrity of this retreat, I’m ethically bound to keep what you say confidential.”

Anna nods. “Good. Good.” Satisfied, she presses forward. “Is it possible to rebuild trust with a person who’s betrayed you in the most personal way?”

“That’s a loaded question.”

“Well, is it?”

“Be straight with me, Anna. What happened?”

Her mouth sets in a very British frown before she speaks. “Finn slept someone else.”

“I see.”

“Is there a way to get over it? The only reason I agreed to come here is to figure that out. My stomach lurches everytime he touches me. I’m so angry with him. I have no respect for the man any longer. I...I...I’m probably wasting my time here. I should just cut my losses.”

“Anna…” I say to slow her down, “you must be devastated.”

She shrugs and looks away, pursing her lips in obvious emotional suppression.

“Look...I once heard someone equate trust in a relationship to a piece of foil paper. When it comes off the roll, it’s perfectly smooth. A bump here, a little mistreatment there, and you’ve got irreversible wrinkles and creases. Crumble it up, and you can do your best to smooth it out, and it might even still be functional, but the foil never forgets what happened to it.”

“And what if he did more than crumble the paper? What if tore it up into a thousand pieces? What then? Tape? Is it functional when you change the constitution of the paper?”

“Are you looking for validation to leave him? Or are you looking for hope that it might work out?”

She shakes her head and looks to the sky. A tear finally cracks through the wall she’s trying desperately to keep erect. “Neither. Both. I don’t know.”

“What does trust mean to you, Anna?”

“It means predictability. I trust you, a doctor, to give me sound advice. I trust Valentin Cassadine to take advantage of me any chance he gets. I trust my ex-husband, Robert, with my life. I trust him to always put me first. It’s what he’s always done; it’s what he’ll always do. I trusted Finn because I thought I knew what he was capable of...I gave him every chance possible to get out before he could hurt me…”

“And yet, Finn isn’t Robert. He didn’t put you first when he slept with someone else.”

She says nothing. No wasted words from Anna Devane.

“Just out of curiosity...why aren’t you with your ex-husband any longer? Clearly, it wasn’t a matter of trust.”

She almost smiles as she says, “Because he always steps aside when I need him to. My happiness is more important than anything to Robert. It’s always been that way.”

“Hmm. Are you happy now?”

“Obviously not. But we’re not here to talk about my happiness. We’re here to talk about trust. I’m of the mind that if someone shows you who they are, you should believe them the first time.”

“A common phrase these days. One that doesn’t allow for imperfection or human betterment.” 

“What are you saying? I should try to forgive him and move past this?”

I shake my head. It’s always so surprising how even the most insightful people take my words and spin them around in their head, coming up with their own meaning far beyond the original intent.

“All I’m saying is that nobody’s perfect. Everyone messes up sometimes. We just have to decide which imperfections we can live with, and where we draw the line. Is your love for Finn strong enough to risk yourself being vulnerable to him one more time when you know there’s a chance he might let you down again?”

“Or what’s more...Can I ever respect a man who’s word means nothing? A man who slept with his ex and blames it on me for being gone too long. Can I forgive that injustice?”

“You’re the only person who knows the answers to those questions, Anna.”

Anna nods in agreement. She’s not a woman who likes to be told what to do. Something tells me that if I ever tried to impose my will on Anna, she’d help me find a painful place to shove my advice. 

“What if I decide to try to give it a shot? How would I go about doing that?”

“Well, first and foremost, you’ve got to look at the situation as an isolated incident, and not let it bleed into every other part of your relationship. You’ll need to take stock of what’s left of the relationship, and see what’s salvageable. Are there ways you can still count on him? Was this out of character for him, or was it consistent with who he is? Has he made overt efforts to improve? That sort of thing. Then, you’re going to have to do your best to remain present-oriented, and not get stuck in the past.”

The sour look on her face tells me what she thinks of my little speech.

“Thank you,” she says. “I’ll think on whether or not I have it in me to not let this ‘indiscretion’ of Finn’s ruin everything we had.”

The sound of a twig snapping has us looking up. Valentin Cassadine is approaching, and I wonder how much he’s heard. I wonder if that was his intent.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but Finn’s looking for you Anna. He couldn’t make the hike over here on his bad leg.”

Anna’s nose is scrunched up as though she smells something unpleasant. “Thank you for your counsel, Dr. Byrne,” she says quietly before standing abruptly and walking past Valentin without a word.

Now, back to Alexis…

I stand to walk back to camp. I give the obligatory, polite smile as I walk past Valentin.

“Hey, doc…” he says.

Oh, no.

“Do you have a minute? I’d like to ask your advice about something.”

I sigh, “Sure...as long as you understand I’m not your therapist.”

“I wouldn’t presume, particularly because you’re dating my little sister.”

I try not to let him see my discomfort. “How can I help?”

Valentin doesn’t stand face to face. He comes around and stands next to me, so we’re both facing camp. Clearly, he doesn’t like the intimacy of eye contact.

“Seeing as how Nina’s sick, and I’d hate to waste the weekend, how would you suggest I work on improving my relationship when my fiance can’t participate?”

“Well, you could engage in some self-reflection...you could even practice the skills with another person…”

Valentin laughs, “Like who? Anna?”

I chuckle, too. “If she’d be willing.” 

“I think we both know Anna wouldn’t ever interact with me willingly. And I can’t imagine Nina and I would get much out of me practicing with Anna of all people. Nina and Anna couldn’t be more different.”

“How so?”

His answer is quick, as though he isn’t thinking about what he’s saying, “Well, I respect Anna.”

My eyebrows rise at the implication.

“No...no...I didn’t mean it like that. I respect my fiance. She’s a bright woman. A savvy business person. I just meant that Anna and I come from similar occupational backgrounds, and I have a lot of respect for the work she does. It’s just on a different level than a fashion magazine.” He rolls his eyes at his words. “None of this is coming out right.”

I stifle my laugh, “Look, Valentin. I’m not your therapist, but if I was, I’d probe into your obvious perception of your partner as...less than Anna’s equal...less than your equal, likely.”

“I don’t see myself or Anna as superior to Nina. Nina’s just...naive. Anna and I...we’ve seen a very different side of the world than Nina. A dark side of the world. Hell, we helped create the dark side for a time...me more so than her.”

I narrow my eyes at him, unable to stifle my curiosity. “May I ask why you’ve chosen Nina as your partner? What is it about her naivety that appeals to you?”

I can see a smirk, even though I’m only looking at him in profile. “I worked in the intelligence community for years, Dr. Byrne. I know better than most that warm sheets loosen lips.”

“You’re suggesting I’d tell your sister what you share with me? Believe me, she’d have no interest in hearing it. I truly only asked out of habit and curiosity.”

Valentin sighs, “Alright, well, thank you for the advice about self-reflection. I’ll practice that...alone.”

I take a step forward to leave, but stop myself to say one last thing. “I hope you respect the private nature of whatever you may have overheard Anna discussing with me.”

Valentin chuckles, “Oh, Dr. Byrne, are you familiar with my history with, Ms. Devane?”

I’m not, but I keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t need to know anything more of what Anna did or did not speak to me about.

“Don’t worry,” he continues, “I have no intention of agitating Anna Devane any more than Finn already has. She and I were once friends. In fact, she’s the last person I trusted before I met my fiance. Ultimately, a mistake, but of no fault of her own.”

Before my curiosity asks the follow up question about patterns of mistrust, I shut down this potentially messy conversation. “Let me know if you have any further questions specific to the retreat’s exercises, Mr. Cassadine.”

He gives an acknowledging nod, and I make my escape. My eyes are on camp, and my head does its best to rid itself of everyone else’s problems before I start working on my own. 

The sight of Alexis helps clear my head. She’s sitting with Diane, who has rejoined the circle. Diane is talking animatedly while Alexis watches with amusement. I hear snippets of their conversation as I come closer…

“...and my leg is stuck in that position for thirty minutes after we’re done!” says Diane.

Alexis laughs uninhibited, from deep in her belly.

“Tell your boyfriend to invite a chiropractor to his next retreat.”

“Alexis?” I say. 

“All set?”

“Oh, Dr. Byrne,” says Diane. “I was hoping to speak with you a moment about the morning’s exercise.”

The wind is taken from my sails. I need to stop mixing business and pleasure. I look apologetically to Alexis.

She stands up and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Take my seat. I’m going to get another cup of coffee.”

I do as she suggests and sit with Diane. The vivacious redhead is smirking at me knowingly.

“How can I help you, Diane?”

“Well, when Max and I completed the exercise this morning, I was hoping we’d get a lot more out of it.”

“Completed?” I look at my watch. “It took you less than an hour to plunge the depths of your souls?”

Diane laughs. “Max is a sweet man, doctor, not a deep one…”

As Diane rambles on, I watch Alexis walk away, swaying her cute little derriere with every step toward the dining hall. 

Soon...soon...

Elizabeth  
______________

Common ground...common ground…find common ground…

How can I possibly find common ground when there’s nothing that connects us except a piece of paper and memories that only I have? 

“Where are you takin’ me?” he asks.

“We’re almost there.” We’re going to the little spot I found yesterday with the rocks overhanging the lake. It feels like I’m inviting him into my sanctuary. 

We round the last bend of trees and come into view of the water. 

“Wow,” he says. “That’s sure pretty.”

“Yeah.”

“I’d imagine you’d like to paint a view like that.”

“The thought crossed my mind.”

Franco walks to the edge of the rocks and looks out over the water. “So what did you talk to the doctor about?”

Since understanding requires honesty, I tell the truth. “I asked for guidance. We can’t seem to talk about your past without getting into a fight, and we can’t talk about my feelings without making you uncomfortable, so I wanted to know how to connect on a deeper level without making things worse.”

He laughs without humor. “I guess that doesn’t leave us much to talk about.”

“He says we should find common ground, and we should look for at least one thing we could love about each other, and go from there.”

Franco turns around and meets my eyes. A smirk is playing across his mouth, making me wary. “This should be easy then.”

“Oh, really?”

“I think there’s one obvious thing we can appreciate about each other.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I’ve deduced it’s not my personality that’s particularly appealin’ to you.” He looks me up and down still smirking mischievously. “And I’d be a fool not to notice the way you look at me.”

Heat flashes across my face, and I’m probably an embarrassing shade of red. 

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m obviously affected by you, too. You’re a beautiful woman, Elizabeth.”

The compliment doesn’t help my blushing.

“Have I made you uncomfortable?” he says with amusement.

“A little.”

With an open-handed gesture, he invites me to sit on the rock with him that overlooks the lake. I join him with a cautious optimism, uncertain of his newfound playfulness and complementary attitude, but hopeful, nonetheless. 

“So what is safe for us to talk about?” he asks. “How are we to dive to the depths of each other’s souls without talkin’ about my history or your feelin’s?”

“I have no idea.”

“I suppose we can’t just talk about your pretty, blue eyes all day,” he says. “Or, maybe, we can. They’ve got an awful lot of depth.”

I’m completely thrown off by his teasing playfulness, and it must show on my face because he chuckles and says, “What? Didn’t your husband ever compliment your eyes before?”

“Of course, you did. I’m just not used to receiving compliments like that since the procedure. I’m not used to you being nice to me, at all.”

“Oh, come now, I work hard to maintain my manners.”

“Having manners and being nice aren’t the same thing. One family dinner at the Quartermaines is a master class on how to insult someone while maintaining the highest standards of etiquette.”

“Hmpf,” he grunts. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“Today’s different, though. You’ve actually been pleasant today.”

“I should hope so.” He hangs his head in a boyish shame. “You were kind to me last night. It would be pretty low, even for me, to treat you poorly after…you know.”

“How are you today? Remembering what happened to you as boy couldn’t have been easy.”

He shakes his head. “I guess I’ve been avoidin’ thinkin’ about it. I don’t really see it as a memory. It was more like a bad dream.”

“I wish that were true. I wish Jim Harvey never hurt you.”

All his playfulness is gone now. His face is covered by that mask of indifference again. “I’m sorry you had to see me actin’ so silly.”

“Don’t be sorry. I want to be there for you. I’m glad you let me.”

Unable to maintain the mask of stoicism for long, he rubs a hand over his face in obvious self-disgust. “Come on, Elizabeth. Seein’ a grown man all emotional like that ain’t right. Especially over a stupid dream.”

“Hey...” By habit, I reach out to comfort him. It’s not until my hand is touching his skin that I realize I don’t have the right to touch him without permission any longer. Thankfully, he doesn’t object, so I leave it there. “It was more than a dream. It was the first memory you recovered from your life. And probably one of the most traumatic experiences you’ve ever had. It’s certainly not the memory I would’ve chosen for you to relive first. Don’t beat yourself up for having a natural reaction to something so horrible.”

“‘Natural reaction.’ That’s generous. I was cryin’ like a baby on your shoulder half the night.”

“You hardly shed a tear. Besides, tears aren’t a sign of weakness.”

He scoffs, “You think they’re a strength?”

“No, I think you protecting your brother from a monster is a strength. I think subjecting yourself to repeated abuse so Drew would never have to live with the same memories you do is a strength. The life that Drew had would be very different if you didn’t protect him from Jim Harvey.”

He sighs, “I’ve just never seen myself as a victim before. I don’t like it.”

I grasp his hand and say, “You may have been victimized, Franco, but you’ve never been a victim. What happened to you is just that, it’s something that happened to you. It’s never defined you. You get to choose how you want to define yourself.”

“And how is a man with someone else’s memories supposed to define himself?”

“Saving Andy isn’t someone else’s memory. You remember sacrificing yourself to save your brother. You can start defining yourself right there...as a hero.”

He laughs, “A hero, huh? For somethin’ I did as a kid? That’s milkin’ a victory for all it’s worth.”

“Franco…” I shake my head in disbelief that he can’t see himself the way I do, “...you sacrificed your mind for our son. You’re the same person you’ve always been. A hero. My hero.”

A rush of affection for my husband has tears filling my eyes. I do my best to stop them from falling down, lest they make him uncomfortable.

Franco coughs to clear his throat and push away whatever emotions are coming up for him, too. He gives my hand a squeeze and says as offhand as he can muster, “I can tell this isn’t the first time you’ve gotten this poor sap through a few bad dreams. You know all the right things to say.”

“The truth is…” I start, but hesitate immediately after. Do I tell him? I know if I talk about what Tom Baker did to me, this dam of inhibition I’m so precariously holding onto will come crashing down. 

“What?” he asks.

Can I trust him? If I expose the most raw and vulnerable pieces of myself to this man, will he shame me or love me for it?

An old memory comes to mind...Franco, MY Franco, asking me to take a leap of faith…to have faith in us...

“The truth is, you’re not the only one who’s been hurt...that way. I’ve had to learn how to cope with painful memories of my own.”

He turns his head to me, eyes narrowed, shoulders back, fists clenched, “Someone hurt you?”

His obvious concern for me breaks the dam, and the tears silently fall. I wipe them away so he doesn’t get bothered. “A long time ago, a man named Tom Baker raped me. When Tom was released from prison a few years ago, you protected me from him. You did everything you could to make sure he didn’t hurt me again.”

He smiles gently, and wipes a tear from my cheek. “I did that?”

I nod. 

“How come that wasn’t on the internet when I searched my name?”

I roll my eyes, “The news outlets only cared about what you did when you were sick with that brain tumor. They lost interest when they realized you were a good man once it was removed. But that’s ok. I don’t mind keeping the best of you to myself.”

His expression is much softer now as he looks out over the lake and sits quietly with his thoughts.

At some point in our conversation, our bodies have leaned into one another. I savor the feel of my husband’s arm against mine. And even though he’s quieter than I’ve ever known Franco to be, his skin feels like my husband.

With his eyes still on the lake, he asks, “If you could snap your fingers and give me an old memory, just one memory of our time together, what would it be?”

I suck in a breath...he wants to know about himself…

“There are so many to choose from. It’s cruel to make me pick just one.” 

“Only one,” he reiterates.

The memory I choose is already fresh in my mind. The leap of faith. It may or may not be the most powerful memory we have, but it got us this far…

“There was one time...I was sketching you, and you were trying to convince me to kiss you.” I can’t help the grin taking over my face.

“Really? That’s the memory you’re choosing?” he laughs. “Me puttin’ the moves on you?”

“Yes, that’s the memory. But it was about so much more than a kiss.”

“How so?” He’s watching me with gentle eyes, the lake completely forgotten.

“You were telling me I should put my sketchpad down because the two of us kissing would be a grander work of art than anything we put on paper. It would be a collaborative masterpiece.”

He laughs, “A collaborative masterpiece? The ‘whole’ more than the sum of its parts?”

“Yeah, something like that. What you were really doing was asking me to take a leap of faith...on us. That we’d be in this together, picking each other up should one of us fall. That we’d have each other’s backs, no matter what.”

He’s not smiling anymore. His hazel eyes, dark and serious, move from my eyes, down to my lips, then back up again. When he speaks, it’s in that same gentle tone as in the memory, “Did I convince you to kiss me?”

I nod, looking at his lips, and remember what it felt like to have them on me. He’s close enough to feel his breath whispering across my skin.

“Was it the artistic masterpiece I said it would be?”

The memory sits in my heart, making it flutter wildly. “It was.”

“Did it rival masterpieces like Romeo and Juliet?” 

My mouth drops open and I lose my breath. Does he remember? No...the look in his eyes is curiosity. He really wants to know.

But Romeo and Juliet...a part of him MUST remember.

“It did,” I say. “Every time you kissed me, it put them to shame.”

He hesitates only a moment longer, then he drops his lips to mine. I’m frozen in place as our lips connect. His lips are everything I remember...perhaps a little more nervous... a little more curious than were a few months ago. 

And I realize...this is his leap of faith…

He pulls back a hair's breadth, only to move his kiss to my bottom lip. Somehow, my paralysis is broken, and I soften, finally kissing him back. My hands lift to his cheeks, holding the face I love. I touch him with so much reverence, with gratitude, as his mouth moves against mine.

When we break apart he’s looking at me with a sense of wonder...and a need for more… 

My heart is aching, filling with a painful hope.

“Oh...that’s much better than anythin’ a couple of teenagers could come up with,” he says. 

I’m too breathless for words. 

Franco stands and looks down to me with more mischief in his eyes. He holds out a hand to pull me up. “What do say we take another leap of faith?”

A hesitant excitement fills my soul as I rise. It’s a cautious excitement Franco’s made me feel a thousand times before… “What did you have in mind?”

He lets go of my hand, and takes a step back. He removes his shoes and socks one by one. He grabs the bottom of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head, grinning broadly as he tosses it aside. 

Even though I spent the night wrapped up in that body, I’m not prepared to see him in the sunlight. The sight hits me with a force I’m not prepared for. He’s obviously been doing more working out than baking, lately. 

He was right, his body is clearly something I can still love about him...and his impish smirk is all too familiar…My husband’s smirk.

He takes a deep breath, eyes closed, filling his lungs full. When he opens them, he winks before turning and taking three big strides toward the edge of the rock and jumps! He’s suspended in the air for a moment as gravity stops his upward momentum and pulls him back down. 

I run to the edge of the rock just in time to see the splash as he hits the water below. Tension takes over my limbs as I wait for him to surface. He pops up out of the water, shaking his head and wiping his face.

A laugh bubbles up from my belly as his head turns up to look at me. “You takin’ the leap with me?!” he yells.

“It’s a long way down!” If I hit the water wrong, I might break something.

“I’m here! You’ll be fine!”

There was never really a choice. He’s down there, and I’m not letting him jump by himself. I step back and pull off my shirt, leaving me in my sports bra and leggings. I kick off my shoes and peel off my socks.

I require more mental preparation than Franco to make the jump...then again, it’s always been that way with us.

“Elizabeth?” he calls. I can hear the teasing tone in his voice.

One more deep breath before turning to the rock. I run full speed on the same path as Franco, no hesitation once I’ve committed.

And I jump!

Anna  
______________

Almost there…

I find a place to secure my foot, and I push up with my quad, feeling the muscle burn from the exerting climb. I extend my body fully to reach for a handhold at a crack in the rock face. I hope I’m not disturbing any critters that might live in the crevice. It’s a risk I’m willing to take when I’m this high up and in need of a secure hold. I decide on a hand jam, inserting my hand into the crack, and flexing hard so that it gives me a good grip. 

Now, I just need to do a rock-over, and I can finish this climb with a mantelshelf off the ledge. I use my dancer’s flexibility to get a high foothold, and rock my body weight to shift my center of gravity. I release my hand jam and reach for the ledge…

Got it! A layback maneuver is all it takes to get my arms fully on the ledge. I look up to see the height of my conquest...the top of the mountain. 

An unexpected tall figure is standing in my place of victory.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I growl, hanging off the edge of the mountain

“Soloing with no equipment, Anna? A little dangerous, don’t you think?”

I pull my dangling legs up and collapse to the ground. I’m laying on my back, catching my breath, and staring at the birds flying overhead. “It wasn’t that big of a climb.”

When the acute ache in my muscles recedes, I pick myself up off the ground turn to see the view. It wasn’t an enormous climb, but enough to get the adrenaline pumping knowing what would happen if I fell. 

The lake is in sight about a mile away. I wonder if Finn is still cleaning up Nina’s vomit to keep himself busy while I’m gone. No, don’t think about Finn. You came here to clear your head.

“How did you get up here?” I ask Valentin. 

“The same way you did, with my hands and feet.”

“I didn’t realize you knew how to climb.”

He chuckles and points behind him to a harness on the ground. “The other side of the rock isn’t half as steep, and it’s equipped with cables.”

At least I won’t have to strain myself going down, but I was really hoping for some solitude after that invigorating climb. I don’t want to be up here with anyone, much less Valentin. “How long are you going to stick around?”

“It took a lot of work getting up here,” he says. “I’m going to stay and enjoy the view.”

“Fine, I’ll be going.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Take a minute to rest. We’re not such enemies that you can’t stand my presence for a short while, are we?”

“You stole my son and turned him over to his psychopathic father!” 

Valentin cringes. “I know. I’m so sorry, Anna. I’m sorry to you, and I’m sorry to Peter.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I wish there was a way I could make up for what I’ve done.”

“I don’t want you to. I want you to stay out of my life.”

“I’m not the same man I was back then, Anna. I’m no longer bitter and resentful. I don’t carry a chip on my shoulder…”

“Don’t. Just stop, please. Don’t try to convince me you’re a better person than you used to be. I know exactly who you are, and words don’t change that.”

“Fine, then who am I?”

“You’re a vengeful opportunist who can’t even figure out who the person is he’s really supposed to hate. You create enemies everywhere you go, and you’ll deceive the people you love most if it suits you.”

“You mean, like Finn did to you?”

His words are a punch in the gut, but he’s not wrong. “Yes, like Finn did to me. Except, I know to expect it with you. It’s perfectly within your character.”

“And Finn blindsided you.”

“So, you were listening while I was talking to Dr. Byrne. How much did you hear?”

He looks at the ground, pretending to be ashamed. “I heard enough to know he cheated on you with Hayden. You’re here to try to make it work.”

“No, I’m here to see if I even want to make it work. I left Finn the moment he confessed what he’d done.”

Valentin laughs, “Wow. He confessed his sins? Does that make him a better man than me?”

“You both have your despicable qualities. Yours far out way his, but his are so rare they catch me off guard...they hit me harder. I actually prefer your type of despicable. At least I know what to expect...how to prepare myself for it.”

Valentin pulls out a bottle of water from his bag, holding it out to me for a drink. I raise an eyebrow at him. Like I’d ever trust anything he’s giving me…

He rolls his eyes, opens the bottle, and pours some into his mouth so I can see the stream. He audibly swallows, and says, “Satisfied?”

He tosses me the bottle and turns to go sit on the ledge of the mountain. That’s awfully trusting of him. It would be so easy for me to push him from up here. The water is cold and satisfying. I take a drink and return the bottle to him. Then, I sit on the ledge just out of his reach.

“So, what brings you to this excruciating weekend of increased intimacy and connection?”

He sighs in exasperation, “Nina wants us to be the best couple we can be before we get remarried.”

I laugh at her naivety. He chuckles along with me.

“Can I ask you a question?” I say.

“You can ask anything you like.”

I know his words don’t mean I’m going to get an honest answer. “How many secrets are you keeping from Nina right now? Earth shattering, relationship ending secrets?”

He chuckles darkly, “None, of course.”

“I guess, if you told me, they wouldn’t be secrets. Doesn’t it all feel inauthentic to you? Is the relationship really worth it if you’re lying about who you are? She doesn’t love YOU, she loves the picture you’re painting of yourself. That’s the point of this exercise today, is to really get to know your partner. Yet, she’ll never really know you, will she?”

He turns to me with a somber smile, “You want truth, Anna? There are three kinds of women in this world. There are the Ninas of the world...the ones who’ve suffered being broken themselves...the ones who can accept a stuttering, hunchback of a man with open arms and an open heart. Unfortunately, she doesn’t understand the true nature of my soul. Then, there are the Annas of the world...the ones who can see past a facade of lies with ease, but won’t give that stuttering hunchback a chance. Last, there are the Alex’s of the world...the ones who pretend to accept every piece of you, and then take your heart rip it to shreds.”

He grabs a rock and launches it off the cliff. “I’ll take my chances with Nina. The others haven’t worked out so well for me in the past.”

“And you think building a relationship on a foundation of lies is going to work out well for you this time?”

He shrugs, refusing to admit wrongdoing. 

“Maybe you should stop doing all the things that need to be hidden from a woman like Nina. Be the person she actually thinks you are. Then, you could let her see all of you with no shame and no fear.”

He throws another rock off the cliff. “Anna, I think both you and I know that there are parts of me that Nina could never understand. Both she and I would be left disappointed if we tried. Happiness for people like me always comes at a cost. I’ve got to take what I can get when it presents itself, or I’ll be left in the dust.”

“Like Alex did to you.”

“Like Mikkos did first.”

I toss a rock off the cliff, too. “You’re letting twisted lessons you learned from your deranged father affect the rest of your life. You don’t have to be beholden to his teachings. You can create a new reality for yourself.”

He laughs, “And you think you’re different? You’re stuck in a pattern of holding men up to impossible standards, then shutting them down and turning them away when they don’t measure up.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t hold men to impossible standards. I just don’t want the man I’m in a relationship with to be a criminal or a cheat. I don’t think that’s asking too much.”

“And yet, Anna, you’ve committed treason against this country. This country forgave you, yet you can’t forgive the man you love? Why is that?”

I think of David and Duke. “I spent too many years of my life with men deceiving me, pretending to be better than they were. Why should I continue a relationship with a man who betrayed me in a way far worse than any of the others ever did?”

“Because all men have their follies. None of us are perfect, yet you women hold us up to unreachable standards, and force us to lie and deceive in order to be loved by you.”

“So it’s our fault you’re selfish?”

“No, it’s your fault you're disappointed by it.”

“That’s a pathetic excuse for your behavior, Valentin. Just own your darkness. It makes you far more appealing than pretending to be a white knight. I can see through your shiny mask.”

He laughs condescendingly, “You think I’m wrong?”

“I do.”

“I’m not. Everyone will let you down at some point, Anna. Everyone. Name a man who’s never let you down.”

“Robert.”

“If he’s so perfect, why aren’t you with him?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“So he didn’t lie or cheat?”

“Of course not.”

Valentin shrugs. “So unicorns do exist. Please, hold him up as a standard for the rest of us to fail to live up to. Like it would do any good if we could...he’s the perfect man, yet he still doesn’t have you.”

I grunt in frustration. “I think it’s time for me to head back.”

I stand up and dust myself off. As I’m walking away toward the trail of cables Valentin used climb the mountain, he says, “Give Finn a chance, Anna. He fucked up, but show him you can love him anyway.”

“What does it matter to you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m a fucked up man looking for a second chance myself. Either way, you deserve to be happy. Don’t let your pride get in the way.”

“This isn’t about my pride.”

“Like hell, it’s not.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He’s about to respond, but I interrupt, “No, never mind. I’m done here. Enjoy the view. Hopefully, it won’t be as distorted as your self-reflection.”

I spin on my heel and leave before he can hook me again.

Alexis  
______________

I was just going to rest my eyes while Neil finished up with Diane. We stayed up so late last night, my eyelids have been heavy this morning. I sat on the bed, propped up by a few pillows, and I don’t remember anything after.

Now, Neil’s soft voice is coaxing me awake. 

“Alexis, are you asleep?”

His soft hand caresses my cheek. I hum in contentment and nuzzle his palm. 

“I’m sorry I took so long.”

I force my eyelids to part, and I see a smiling face hovering over me. “Don’t be sorry. You’re just doing your job.”

“But it’s getting in the way of what I’d rather be doing.”

I reach for his face, and pull him down for a kiss. It’s a sweet, unhurried kiss. A kiss of people who have all the time in the world. I really like the thought of that, and it makes me smile against his mouth.

He pulls back with eyes sparkling in amusement. “You’re happy,” he says.

“I am happy. For the first time in my life, I’m just enjoying the moment. I’m not plagued with anxiety, waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

His joy at my words is apparent in his smiling eyes. He cradles my face in both his hands and kisses me again. If anyone ever understood how significant this peaceful happiness in a relationship is for me, it’s Neil.

“I love seeing you happy,” he says. “I love being part of the reason you’re so happy.”

“How about you? Are you happy?”

“I’m happy, Alexis. And I’m more hopeful than I’ve been in a long time.”

He kisses me again to show me just how happy he is. My body’s beginning to recognize it’s new partner, and is readying itself for what’s coming. My legs fall open for him as he climbs over me. There’s nothing like the weight of a good lover pressing between your legs, giving unspoken promises of imminent pleasure.

“We should probably have that talk now,” he says between kisses.

“Now?” I have a few other things I’d rather be doing than talking, and by the state of his erection against my hip, I’m surprised he can even think of anything but sex. I reach down and grab his cock through his jeans.

He grunts and kisses me harder. 

“You were saying?” I tease.

He huffs and forces himself back. “You don’t make things easy, do you?”

“You already knew that.”

“I did.” He kisses me gently, then rolls off to the side. I turn to face him, my desire not remotely faded. Neil, on the other hand, visibly tenses as he says ominously, “There are things you should know about me before we take this any further.”

“Believe me, there is very little you could tell me that I haven’t heard from a lover before.”

“Ehh, I’m pretty sure you would’ve mentioned it in a session if this was an issue you had in a relationship.”

“Ohh...Is this something you’ve mentioned in a session to your own therapist?”

He nods his head, “Mostly in couples therapy.”

I wait, getting more and more nervous the greater the build up. He doesn’t continue right away, and my patience is lost. “What’s going on, Neil?”

His eyes, suddenly a little darker, meet mine. “I told you Deidre and I divorced because we grew apart after Joanna’s death?”

“I remember.”

He sighs, “That was a half truth. The reality was that we grew apart years before. Joanna’s death erased whatever connection was left between the two of us. After she was gone, there was no reason to try anymore.”

“What drove you apart before Joanna died?”

He cringes. “It was a number of things, to be honest, but one in particular kept rearing its head over and over…”

He’s not looking at me anymore. I don’t speak, and let him muddle through, “Deidre was...conservative.”

I laugh, “Politically? You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

He chuckles, “Yes, politically, but that was something I made do with. She was conservative about...everything.”

“Religion? Gender roles?”

“Yes. Yes. But…” He sighs deep and presses forward. “But where we were most incompatible...was the bedroom.”

An inadvertent chuckle escapes my lips. I force myself to reel it back in. “Ok...If last night was any indication, I don’t anticipate that being a problem for us.”

He meets my eyes again. “Last night was pretty amazing, wasn’t it?”

“And this morning.” But that can’t be the whole story. “What made you so incompatible? She didn’t want sex?”

“Mmm, well, her sex drive was minimal, but she liked sex a very specific kind of way. I was the only partner she ever had, and I had a number of partners before her.”

“A ‘number’ of partners? I really don’t want to ask how many, but when you say it like that…”

He tips his head back and forth as he considers, “A couple dozen, at least.”

“Oh.” I’m genuinely surprised, and trying not to judge. But, wow! “Ok.”

He laughs awkwardly, “I’ve had a variety of experiences, and a variety of...interests...in the bedroom.”

I’m flushing more and more as he talks. “Variety of interests? And you married a conservative woman?”

He laughs, “Crazy right? I don’t know. She was beautiful and engaging. She thought I was handsome and attentive. We were in love, and our differences didn’t seem like such a big deal in the beginning.”

“But they obviously became a big deal. And the problems started in the bedroom?”

“The bedroom made a variety of problems evident.”

“What happened? Did she not want to be hog-tied, ball-gagged, and beaten with a flogger?” I laugh at my own joke.

Neil’s not laughing.

My giggles trail off into silence as his cheeks flush red. He can’t be serious.

Oh, God...he’s serious.

“That’s what happened, isn’t it?”

He rubs his face in his hands. “Deidre liked...missionary. She liked to lay still while I…”

“Ok, ok. I get the picture.” I don’t need to visualize him with another woman. 

“I like missionary just fine, but after years and years of the same disengaged thing over and over, especially when I was accustomed to…” he hesitates.

“Variety?”

“Yeah. I was accustomed to variety.”

My heart starts racing a little wild. I’m imagining myself hog-tied, ball-gagged, and getting beaten with a flogger. In truth, it’s terrifying, but, perhaps, not entirely unappealing. “And what does VARIETY mean?”

Neil turns his eyes to mine. They’re suddenly very intense, glittering with excitement. A promising smirk curls the right corner of his mouth. My mouth, in contrast, feels very dry. My tongue does its best to moisten my lips. Neil’s watching with obvious desire.

“Variety is just that, Alexis. It’s anything we want it to be.”

“Are talking about BDSM?”

“Not strictly speaking, but including some elements.”

“The pain element?” That’s all I need, another man in my life hurting me...

“There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain. It’s a stimulating concept to explore.”

“Whose pleasure/pain lines would we be exploring?”

“Oh, I don’t like to adhere to specific roles or boundaries in the bedroom.”

“Now you want to toss out boundaries?”

He laughs. He must see the absurdity of the situation. “I say we just explore what feels good to both of us. If something doesn’t work, we won’t do it again.”

“Do I have to call you ‘sir’?”

“Of course not, unless it’s something that turns you on.”

“I’m not very good and being bossed around, or following a set of rules a man lays out for me.”

“I already knew that. This isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey, Alexis. I’m just saying I like to get adventurous when it comes to sex, but I’m not a control freak or a sadist. It’s really all about pleasure. Mutual pleasure. A LOT of mutual pleasure.”

“So, are we talking adventurous as in toys? Locations? Positions? Role plays?”

His dark smile grows bigger and bigger with every word out of my mouth. “All the above.”

I whimper at the thought. “And what are your plans for me?”

He looks up to the ceiling, then closes his eyes and hums in anticipation. “Those beams look promising.”

“I beg your pardon...Did you say beams?”

“Mmhmm. And maybe a few toys.”

“Toys? You brought sex toys to the wilderness?”

His eyes shift over to an unpacked duffel bag in the corner of the room. 

Knots of fear turn in my stomach. “That’s a big bag. Are there a lot of toys in there, or are they just...large?” 

It’s getting hot in here. I’m huffing a little, but I’m not sure if it’s because of fear or excitement. 

“There are a...variety...of things to play with. All shapes and sizes.”

“Huh.” I wipe the sweat beading up on my brow.

“Have you played with many toys, Alexis?”

“Not since childhood,” I joke poorly. “Kidding. Sort of. I’ve played with some handcuffs here and there. And some…” Damn it, I can’t say the words!

“Dildos? Vibrators?”

I purse my lips and nod tightly. How does he just put those words out there like that?

Neil’s obviously enjoying my blush. “Are you curious what’s inside that bag?”

I nod again. 

“Would you like to peek in, or be surprised?”

“Ha. I’m not sure.” 

He reaches for my face, and caresses my cheek. “But you’re willing to try?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued. And terrified.”

“There’s a reason we use the word arousal for both sex and fear. Our bodies are poised and ready...hearts racing, shallow breathing, perspiring, skin flush, senses heightened. It’s something we can take advantage of in the best possible way.”

Neil crawls over me one more time and settles back in the same place he was before. My body accept him in with no hesitation He’s holding my head in his hands as he distributes his weight on his arms on either side of my body. It’s evident he wants to kiss me, but he waits.

“Have I scared you off?” he asks.

“Not yet.”

He gives me a gentle kiss. “We’re in our heads all day, Alexis. Thinking, analyzing, processing, worrying, problem-solving. I want us to get each other to a place that’s just us and pleasure for hours at a time. A place where we can feel connected, and feel what it means to be alive in a way we can’t by ourselves.”

His words are intoxicating. They sing to long neglected parts of my soul.

He goes on, “I spent years of my life stifling my desires, my wants and needs. I promised myself I’d never do that again. And here I found a woman who is more than I could possibly imagine, a woman who’s ready to LIVE her life as fully as I am. You’re bright, complicated, and sexy as hell, and we’ve come to a point in our life where we should have no more stifling. No more inhibition. Just LIFE. We’re going to be great together, Alexis…I just need you to trust me.”

“Trust you? With whips and chains and clamps and the like?”

“Trust me,” he pleads. His hazel eyes are soft and adoring.

What am I so afraid of? It’s just sex, right? It’s not like he’d reel me in, then hold a knife to my throat on the docks or anything...right?

“Trust me, Alexis. I’m not going to hurt you.”

I nod my head. I trust him. I believe him. I’m ready for him. “What the hell...let’s do it.”

Franco  
______________

Elizabeth is showerin’, washin’ the muck of the lake out of her hair. I’m sittin’ on the water’s edge waitin’ for her to finish up so we can have a little dinner before the next meetin’. I’m considerin’ tryin’ to convince her to skip this meetin’ and just take our dinner back to the rocks. 

The schedule shows the next lecture is gonna be about “Spicing Up Your Intimacy.” I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

I grab a fallen branch off the ground, and absent-mindedly doodle in the sand, like a kid writin’ their name in the sand. My attention, however, is on the rocks across the lake where we jumped only a couple hours ago.

I was shocked when I saw her leap in the air. Part of me didn’t think she’d do it. She surprised me. She’s been surprisin’ me since we got here. The way she calmed me last night, all that crap she’d lived through, how she copes with it all... 

I have a picture in my head of her at the height of her jump. She’s lookin’ out at the lake, takin’ that leap of faith, trustin’ I’d be there when she hit the water. There was hope in her eyes shinin’ bright in the sunlight.

She’s so damn pretty, even with her hair a mess and makeup runnin’ down her face after the jump. And her kiss was so sweet, feather-light, like a butterfly's wings.

But my head is so fucked up right now. Part of me is screamin’ to fight it. I’m Drew! I’m Andrew Fuckin’ Cain! And the other part of my head’s tellin’ me that’s crazy as hell. I’ve got a beautiful wife and some damn cool kids, and I need to try to make this shit work for their sake.

The messed up thing is I’m not Andrew Cain anymore. And I’m not Franco Baldwin, either. I’m a fuckin’ no one.

The woman I’ve loved for years has run off with a goddamn barista, and I’m expected to pick up a paintbrush, a minivan, and a wedding ring and pretend like I’m fine!

Reality tells me to let go of my old life, but my memories, my basic sense of identity is demandin’ I hold on for dear life. Leave no man behind...especially Andrew Cain.

Then, this beautiful woman comes in the picture, lovin’ me like I’m God’s gift...except she doesn’t love ME. She loves who I’m supposed to be. And everytime I remind her of that, her heart gets broken. I feel like a goddamn asshole. But shit...I’ll probably never remember bein’ Franco Baldwin. She needs to accept that as much as I do.

Then again, the more time I spend with her, the more I think I might connect with that forgotten piece of myself. When she touches me, it CALMS me. It’s safe. She’s safe.

And that’s how I know I’m not Andrew Cain. My memories aren’t that of a fearful man, but I’ve been scared as hell since wakin’ in that bed in Port Charles. I always feel like somethin’s after me. After that dream last night, I know why. That fear ain’t Drew’s fear...it’s Franco’s.

It’s mine.

But Elizabeth takes that away. I woke with my arms wrapped around her, and the smell of flowers comin’ from her hair, and it felt like home. I never wanted to leave…

So, I got the fuck outta there.

But now there’s this need in me to make her smile. To make her feel as safe as she does me.

I didn’t plan on kissin’ her. But she was bein’ so brave tellin’ me what happened to her. Soothin’ my aches with hers. I felt all these feelin’s I’m not even sure were my own, and I just had to do it.

Now, there’s nothin’ else in the world I’d rather be doin’. 

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

I hear the dirt and leaves move behind me, and I know someone is comin’. I can tell who it is by the uneven walk and the thumping of wood on the ground with every step.

“Hey, doc,” I say when he stops beside me. I turn a little in his direction to be polite.

“Hey, Franco,” says Finn. “I just wanted to thank you for making this for me. It’s holding up well.”

“We had to make crutches, splints, and tourniquets out of all kinds of things overseas…” I stop myself when I remember that wasn’t me, “At least, Drew Cain did…”

“How you holding up, man? This can’t be easy.”

Sometimes, I’d rather be in Afghanistan. “I’m fine.”

“It’s good of you to do this. Elizabeth is good person. Any man would be lucky to have her. You’re not going to regret giving this a chance.”

I stay quiet. I don’t want another heart to heart today, or might end up kissin’ the doc, too.

“Oh, wow,” says Finn. “Is that Elizabeth?”

“What do ya mean?”

“That,” he points to the ground where I’ve been scratchin’ in the dirt with the stick.

Well, shit. I’ve been drawin’ her profile. It does look kinda like her...I’ve never been able to draw like that before.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“This next meeting sounds excruciating,” says Finn. “Spicing up your sex life, or whatever...I think I might skip out.”

“Yeah, I’d need to have a fuckin’ sex life in order to spice it up,” I gripe.

“I hear you.” He gives a frustrated sigh. “I better go check on Nina. I’m worried about her fever spiking again.”

“Alright. See ya later.”

As he walks away, my eyes drop back to the sketch in the dirt. It ain’t no master’s painting or anything, but it’s not too fuckin’ shabby.

An idea starts takin’ root in my mind…

I’d be able to get outta Byrne’s sex talk. And I might even make Elizabeth smile. She deserves to smile. My decision’s been made.


	3. Spice Up Your Intimacy

Alexis  
______________

Diane’s squirming in her seat with excitement. 

“Careful,” I tell her. “You’re going to fall in the fire.” 

We’re waiting for Neil’s next lecture. Max has a nice little fire going in the pit. He had the common sense to bring a lighter rather than rubbing sticks together. We’re the only ones here so far, otherwise Valentin and Franco would have already measured and compared the size of their flints.

“So, has he, you know, gotten kinky yet?” says Diane.

“Not yet. He’s been preparing most of the afternoon.”

“Wow! That much preparation for a scene has to mean it’s going to be incredible.”

“Scene? What do you mean? He’s preparing for this meeting.”

Diane gives a pouting look of disappointment. “That’s a shame.”

For some reason, Diane’s excitement for Neil’s obscure sexual inclinations isn’t comforting. “What did you mean by ‘scene’?”

“Honey, when you’re playing with whips and canes, you can’t just play it by ear...someone could get hurt. You’ve got a plan out a scene to know you and your partner are going to be safe.”

“SAFE?” What the hell am I getting into?

“What’s he going to do to you?”

“Not TO me. WITH me. And I have no clue.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t even look in the duffel bag. You’ve got horny Santa’s goody bag at your fingertips, and you don’t even sneak and peek to get yourself on the naughty list? What kind of progressive woman are you?”

“Shut up, he’s coming.”

Neil’s carrying a stack of half inch binders to the circle. He looks around the campground like he’s lost his keys. “Where is everyone?”

“They’re probably just running late,” says Diane. 

Neil drops the binders on the empty seat closest to him. “Usually the ‘intimacy’ lecture is the one people are most excited for.”

“Well,” I say, “don’t take it personal if no one else shows up. I can’t imagine that my ex and his fiance would be comfortable hearing my boyfriend lecture them about sex.”

He nods in agreement, “And your brother, too, for that matter.”

“Also, I think Franco might have other plans tonight for Liz. I saw him carrying a bunch of stuff up the mountain this afternoon.”

“So it’s just us?” Neil looks apprehensively at Max and Diane.

“So it it would seem.”

Neil grabs a couple binders and hands one to me and one to Diane. Diane plops it open on her lap as Max looks over her shoulder. She’s raptly thumbing through the pages.

“Oh, my!” she says, delighted. “Diagrams and pictures and everything.”

Neil chuckles, “See, it’s my best lecture of the series.”

“Oh, I bet it is.” Diane finds a particularly intriguing image and turns the binder upside down to examine it. “Neil, why does it say this position NOT recommended for couples struggling to reach orgasm? It’s seems like it would be...stimulating.”

“Gravity,” he says. “Blood flow is our friend, and we want it pulled in the most productive direction.”

“Excellent point. Thankfully, that’s not a problem for us...”

I cringe at my best friend and my boyfriend calmly discussing sexual positions.

Diane pulls her eyes away from the binder and smirks at me as she talks to Neil. “You know, Neil, I’m a quick study, and this book you put together seems quite descriptive. I think Max and I are going to take this back to the cabin for a little interactive home schooling. You and my dear friend here can have the evening to yourselves for some private tutelage.” 

“Are you sure?” he says.

“Absolutely.” Diane leans over and kisses my cheek, whispering, “Marry that man!”

“Shut up.”

Diane laughs as she pulls Max away, showing him an image from the binder, and leaving Neil and me alone by the fire. Neil sits in his chair looking a little defeated.

“Are you ok?” I ask. 

He smiles softly. “Of course. But the couples are missing out on good information. A lot of them could really use it.”

“You could give your lecture to me, you know. I’m an eager student.”

“Is that so?” he grins.

He grabs my hand, pulling me out of my chair and into his lap. He tosses my binder aside. Apparently, this lecture won’t require any diagrams. 

I’ve got a thing for grabby men, and it appears he’s picked up on that. His arms wrap around me, pulling me into his body...a body growing more and more familiar. I’m surrounded by his masculine scent, and feel compelled to start kissing on the base of his neck.

“Anything in particular you’d like to learn, Ms. Davis?” he purrs as his right hand traces the curves of my body. “We can discuss barriers to intimacy, the best kind of lubricants, the benefits of day sex, treatments for sexual dysfunctions, or anything else your heart desires.”

The fire is starting to put off a nice heat in the cool evening, either that, or my blood is starting to boil. Flickering light bounces off his skin, making it appear a vibrant golden color.

“There might be one or two things I’m curious about,” I mumble between kisses.

“Ask me anything.”

I pause my attentions on his neck to look in his eyes. I actually have a serious question for him. “Tell me why you mix sex and pain.”

“I don’t,” he says. “Not really. It’s all about pleasure...not necessarily pain.”

“What about that ‘fine line’ between pleasure and pain you were talking about earlier? The one you want to explore with me.”

I can feel him getting excited as he readies his thoughts. It’s not the squirmy kind of excited Diane was displaying earlier, but more of a vibrating anticipation. “Do you know much about how the human body experiences pain?”

I shake my head. “Hit, pinch, crush, or poke something, and it feels bad?”

“But WHY does it feel bad?”

“Because it’s signaling to the brain that there’s something wrong. There’s danger.”

“Exactly,” he says. “The body, however, is not the source of the pain. It’s the brain.”

“Doesn’t the body send pain signals to the brain?”

“No. That’s an outdated misperception. Would you like a demonstration?”

“Sure.”

He drops his hand to my ass and gives it a healthy pinch.

“Ouch!” I jump in his lap. I hit him in the chest to give him a taste of his own medicine. He just laughs indulgently. 

“That hurt?” he asks.

“Yes, a little. You knew it would.”

He nods. “See, Alexis, pain is a construct the brain creates that’s telling you something is dangerous. The way the brain creates that construct is by receiving input from a variety of places throughout the body and other parts of the brain. This part of your brain here…” he runs a finger from one of my ears over the top of my head to the other, “is the somatosensory cortex. This part of your brain takes information from the nerves throughout your body and tells you what parts are being stimulated. It has absolutely no bearing on whether or not something is painful.”

“Then what does?”

“A lot of things. Your brain isn’t just taking in information from your sense of touch. It’s taking in information from your eyes, your nose, ears, and tongue.” As he says each sense, he touches the part of my head where the sense is processed in the brain. “The brain rushes that sensory information throughout all kinds of fun places, like various judgment and memory-related structures.”

I try my best to keep up with him. “So, it takes the information from my senses and cross-references it with my knowledge and past experiences, and determines if there is a threat?”

He nods, smiling. “It also goes through emotional parts of your brain that decide how much of a fuss it should raise over the stimulation, how pleasant or unpleasant the experience should be.”

“And this all happens instantaneously?”

“Yes and no.”

“So what does this have to do with pleasure?”

“I’m glad you asked. Let’s demonstrate…” He leans forward and kisses me. It’s one of those deep sensual kisses, but I’m having a hard time getting lost in the kiss for fear of another pinch on the ass. “I’m not going to hurt you again, sweetheart. Just relax. Just feel my mouth and my hands loving on you.”

His words are comforting, and I trust him not to play games with me. I let myself get lost in the feeling of his tongue stroking mine. His hands are caressing my body, rubbing the soft tissue of my bottom. It’s a pleasurable, sensual massage, both in my mouth, and on my ass. 

He pulls his lips back, and asks, “How did that feel?”

“Mmmm. Really good.”

“You feel this?” he asks, gripping my ass in his hands. 

I nod.

“And you like it?”

I nod again.

“I’m squeezing you with the same amount of pressure as the pinch I gave you earlier.” He lets my flesh go, and rubs a soothing hand over the skin. “The kiss, the massage, my comforting words, all told your brain the stimulation wasn’t a threat...it was pleasure.”

“I see where you’re going.”

He nods. “We’re going to convince that brain of yours that everything I do to you is pleasurable. That way, I can stimulate you with more and more intensity, and take you to places you’ve never been before.”

“What do you mean when you say ‘places I’ve never been before?’”

He moves his hands through my hair and cradles my head. “You’re an overthinker, Alexis.”

“See, I knew that.”

He laughs. “So am I, to be honest. But pushing the boundaries of our bodies like this can take us to a place where all those thoughts disappear, and other suppressed parts of our brain can take over. A slow-down of the prefrontal cortex. It’s called transient hypofrontality...or a state of ‘flow.’”

“I’ve heard of that. A runner’s high? Where runners feel a state of euphoria and mental clarity when they exert themselves running for prolonged periods of time.”

“Exactly, but it’s not just runners that get the high. Any kind of strenous exercise can do it, but it’s a lot more fun to get there with sex.” He smiles sweetly and kisses my cheek. “Especially with the right partner.”

My hands run up and down his chest, “And you’re certain I’m the right partner for this?”

He nods. 

“How do you know?”

He kisses my cheek again, “Because you’re open…” he kisses my other cheek, “and willing…” he kisses my nose, “and sexy…” he kisses my lips, “and I think we’re pretty crazy about each other.”

“You’re crazy about me?”

“Completely nuts.”

Damn, that’s nice to hear. “So, you’re going to make love to me until I lose my head?”

He nods again.

“But what about you? I don’t know how to get you there with me.”

A deep, amused rumble sounds in his chest, “That’s the fun part. Research shows that the person doing the stimulating reaches the same state of flow as the one being stimulated. You don’t have to do anything to me but enjoy yourself, and I’ll be right there with you.”

“Wow.”

He kisses me again, pulling me in tight as he licks into my mouth. He’s huffing audibly when he pulls away and asks, “Are you ready to see what we can do together, Alexis?”

I nod with genuine excitement. “I’m ready.”

Valentin  
______________

“Open it,” she demands.

“It’s a $25,000 bottle of Pappy Van Winkle, Anna. It’s a thousand dollars for every year it was aged in its oak barrel. Nina and I were going to drink this together to celebrate our upcoming wedding.”

“Nina can’t even hold down her saliva right now. It won’t do her any good. Think of it as your cost for staying in my cabin.”

I look around the little room. She has me sitting in my pile of blankets on the floor because she doesn’t trust me near her bed. I’m not losing this bottle for a two shitty nights on a cold, hard floor. “Absolutely not.”

“Buy another bottle for Nina when you get back to Port Charles. You can afford it.”

“It’s the principle. You don’t just drink a bourbon like this because you’re angry that your fiance cheated on you.”

“I should think that’s the best time to drink a bourbon like that.”

“No.”

She’s sitting on her bed in her pajamas, knees up to her chest with an angry look in her dark eyes. “Then I’m evicting you.”

“Come on, Anna. Where the hell am I supposed to go?”

“I really don’t care. Go out there and listen to your future brother-in-law talk about how he’s going to make love to your sister…”

“Jesus Christ.” I really have nowhere else to go tonight.

I take a deep breath before breaking the seal. Anna has turned what should’ve been a luxury experience into a painful one. 

“Oh, get on with it,” she snaps.

I get it opened with a growl of frustration. I grab our coffee cups and pour two fingers in each. My soul can hardly stand the disrespect of this golden liquid being poured into in beige ceramic mugs. I pour Anna’s the depth of her own two little fingers rather than mine.

“Here.” 

At least she grabs it with respect. I’d lose it if she spilled a drop in some angry movement. However, she’s as graceful as ever. I watch her inhale with a quiet appreciation. Only a mug of Pappy’s could soothe a tortured soul that quickly. She almost smiles in anticipation. Her lips on the cup as she tips the liquid back is an erotic image I won’t soon forget, made all the more poignant by her moan of pleasure.

I hate moments like these...moments when I remember all the reasons I fell in love with her...moments I remember why I dove head first into treason right between her legs…

Except it wasn’t Anna I slept with. It was Alex. 

I’ve never even got to kiss those lips that are now covered in my 25 year old bourbon.

I suppress the twitch in my cock. I’m getting married in a couple of weeks. I can’t be thinking of fucking Anna.

Not that Anna would ever consider sleeping with me. I had a better chance of fucking her as the cripple I was than the liar I am now, and I had no chance in hell then.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she snaps.

I roll my eyes wondering how she noticed. She wasn’t even looking at me. She has eyes in the side of her head. 

“I’m mourning the loss of my bourbon,” I lie. It’s the most obvious line of bullshit I’ve ever spewed. I’d buy another ten bottles to watch Anna’s lips appreciating my drink.

“Then drink what you have left before I take it and the rest of your bottle.”

I believe her. I breathe the scent deep in my nose before I proceed. Apple...apricot...cherry...vanilla...mild oak. More fruity on the nose than I’d expect. I bring the mug to my lips and sip up just a little to rest on my tongue. It’s all spice and oak on the palate, and quite dry.

“Not what I’d expect from a bottle carrying the Pappy’s name,” I sneer in disappointment.

Anna snorts, “You’re such a pretentious snob. When did that happen?”

“You’re the only woman in the world who could drive a man to shoot back an expensive bourbon like it’s a cheap shot at a bachelorette party.” I drink the rest of the mug in one swallow. 

“Your discomfort with my question has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with your shame over being so damn pompous.”

“No, Anna,” I say as I pour three fingers this time, “you’ve been shaming me for decades now, why would today cause me any additional distress?”

She tries passing me her mug for another pour, but I refuse to take it. She grumbles in exasperation and gets off her bed to steal my bottle.

“Keep your hands off,” I demand. “Put your goblet here, and I’ll pour.”

“Can you actually fill it up this time? I know you’re used to pouring drinks for Nina, but some of us women don’t need simple syrup in our glasses to quench our thirst.”

“Come now. You’re talking about my wife.” I pour a couple fingers, but she keeps her mug there until I double it.

“Your fiance, actually. And need I remind you how quickly a couple can go from engaged to obliterated?”

I cringe. “Finn is a fucking idiot.”

Anna freezes in her tracks. “Why would you say that?”

Shit. I didn’t mean to say it out loud. “Because, if it were me, and my fiance was traipsing the world on a fool's errand, I’d track her down and traipse along with her. Instead, he put himself in a position to make a stupid decision.” 

We’re beyond the point of pretending to sip and appreciate the Pappy’s. I drink it with about the same amount of gusto as my sister would’ve done a couple years ago. Anna seems to be under the impression it should only be consumed in shots.

“First of all, I don’t traipse. I travel. I go on assignment. Second, I didn’t put him in ANY position. He positioned himself in bed with that woman.”

“See, he’s an idiot. He should’ve been following you all over Europe, making love to you in Paris or Rome or London or Prague or wherever the hell you ran off to this time. It’s what I would’ve done...I mean, if it were my fiance.” 

I pour myself another round.

“He has responsibilities here. He’s a doctor. He has patients.”

“But apparently he has no patience. At least, not enough to wait for his future wife to come home.”

She pulls the bottle from my hand and fills her entire mug to the brim.

“My apologies,” I say, feeling guilty for rubbing her nose in her fiance’s infidelity. The last thing I want to do is make Anna feel worse. “It seems we bring the worst out in each other. Maybe it’s best if we just drink in peace and stop talking.”

She nods and takes her mug back to the bed. She sits and drinks like she’s having her morning tea. For a moment, I actually believe we might be capable of sitting in the same room without anymore hostilities…

“What changed, Valentin?”

...I refill my cup...

“No, seriously. What changed since this morning when you were asserting I should give Finn another chance? Now you think him an idiot.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Ivan!”

“I’m serious. People make mistakes, and you’re far too unforgiving in my experience. That doesn’t make Finn any less of an idiot.”

She rolls her eyes like my logic is somehow faulty. It’s not. It’s solid. Only, I’m more invested in her forgiveness of me than Finn. Even if I was able to discard my feelings for the woman, Anna Devane just isn’t a person whom I’d want to be on her bad side. Her forgiveness of my indiscretions would go a long way in giving me peace, and possibly a future ally.

She’s keeping to herself now, drinking my overpriced bourbon. A strange thing to spend a couples retreat with a woman I’m not engaged to, who’s openly hostile toward me (deservedly), and to whom I’ve had a decades-long bitter attachment. The tension in the room is nearly unbearable. 

At least Anna was right about one thing. Popping open the bourbon in this situation was a good idea.

For the next hour, we quietly drink the insufficient bottle. When there’s no alcohol left, we’re stuck back in each other’s undistracted company. At least, it’s easier company to endure under the influence of ol’ Pappy. I feel a pleasant buzz relaxing the muscles in my body.

“I’m going to try to go to sleep,” she says. She stands up to turn off the lights. A bottle of bourbon down, and she still moves with such grace and ease...so lithe and controlled. God, she’s beautiful.

“What are you looking at, Ivan?” she demands with the lights off. 

How does she know I’m looking when her eyes aren’t on me? “Just making sure you’re not going to stick me with a knife in the dark.”

“Don’t worry, if I was going to kill you, it would be in broad daylight, and right in front of your face.”

“Why, Anna, your bedroom talk is pure seduction. I can see why Finn was so satisfied in your relationship.”

Oh, shit. I really shouldn’t have said that. I can almost hear the steam coming from her ears. 

“Oh, you really don’t want to survive the night, do you?”

“I’m sorry, that was below the belt.”

“It was, but I’ll give you a pass on that one. You don’t get to hit below the belt much in your relationship because so much of what you say flies over your wife’s head.”

Ouch. “Nina didn’t do anything to you, Anna. Keep her out of this.”

“Oh, it’s not an insult to Nina. She can’t help her oblivious naivety. It’s commentary on your deceitful nature and your cowardice in settling for a woman you see as so far beneath you.”

“Coward, am I? Sorry, I don’t quite carry your stiff upper lip in the face of danger. Maybe that’s why Finn cheated, you couldn’t loosen your jaw enough to compensate.”

I feel a kick land right in my ribs. “Shit!” I didn’t even see her coming. 

The next kick lands on my upper thigh. “Ouch!”

I’m ready for the third. I grab her leg as it swings at my head. Before she can think to maneuver, I sweep out her other leg, sending her crashing to the floor. I get on top of her, man superior. She may be the better fighter, but I’m still a man, and she’s still one of the smallest women I know, and I can subdue her with pure weight and strength.

She’s hitting me with both hands, and I wrestle them down to the floor as I straddle her hips. As soon as the fear of being struck again passes, I recognize the erotic position, and do my best not to be affected by it. Her squirming body beneath mine is something I’ve imagined frequently in very different circumstances than this.

I catch my breath a moment before I say, “Stop swinging at me, and I’ll let you up.”

“Fine,” she says, huffing. “I’ll stop.”

I let go of her wrists, and before I can sit back on my heels, she’s thrown three rabbit punches to my gut, chest, and throat.

“Fuck!”

She squirms away, and is on her feet before I can recover. 

“You have some nerve talking to me like that, Ivan,” she says.

I scramble to my feet, too. I won’t be a sitting duck for her this time. I try to anticipate her movement as I say, “I’m just trying to have a peaceful night, and you’re pushing and pushing. Perhaps, you want to make things work with Finn so badly, that you’re displacing your anger at him onto me. Make me the big, bad wolf, so the the fox doesn’t look so scary.”

“Right, take no responsibility for your own behavior, as usual. Better yet, go be self-righteous in the woods alone, or in your fiance’s cabin where she’s hitting on Finn, or at the bottom of the lake for all I care.”

“I just paid $25,000 dollars for another night in this room! I’m not going anywhere.”

“Like hell, you’re not. This is my room, and I demand you leave.” 

I cross my arms, “Make me.”

“Oh,” I can see a row of teeth smiling in the dark, “with pleasure.”

Even though I’m ready for her, and I’m reaching out to grab her as she comes at me, she’s able to grab my hand and twist my wrist until I crash against the wall. She kicks me in the ass for good measure.

She’s laughing now, really enjoying her victory. I turn quickly, and reach for her arm. She spins away, but loses balance. Maybe it’s the Pappy’s, or the darkness, or my pile of blankets on the floor, but it’s the first time I’ve ever seen Anna Devane lose footing. I leap toward her, and take advantage of the momentary weakness. 

This time, I’ve got her pinned against the wall. Knowing my greatest vulnerabilities to her flailing limbs are my feet and balls, I press her hard enough against to lift her a few inches off the ground.

She fights and fights and fights to no avail. I don’t let up, because I’ll probably end up with a broken limb or concussion after this, and I’m in no hurry to be medivaced off the mountain. 

Finally she slows. “Fine,” she says, “I’ll stop.”

“Fool me once, Agent Devane…”

She sighs in frustration. “What are you going to do, keep me here all night like this?”

“If I have to.” My hands have her wrists pinned to the wall, and I can feel her racing pulse with my thumb. She’s no less activated than only moments before, I know her submission is only an act.

“You don’t have to enjoy it so much.”

“You think this gives me pleasure?” I smirk.

“I can see it in your eyes, and I can feel it on my hip.”

The truth is, I was keeping my erection at bay until she said those words. Now, my cock is pressing into her belly, right where I’m applying the most pressure. I see her eyes widen as she feels me grow. 

That’s right...eat your heart out.

She’s squirming against me, but now it’s not to get away...it’s for friction. 

“Keep moving like that, Anna, and I’m going to think you’re the one finding pleasure in this position.”

“Narcissist.” 

“Traitor.”

“Hypocrite.”

“Swallow,” I bite back, referring to term for a female agent who traps her prey with seduction.

“You’re confusing sisters again.”

I grind my cock against her squirming hips and raise an eyebrow.

“Please,” she scoffs, “Even I wouldn’t sink that low.”

“Exactly. The great Anna Devane doesn’t go low for anyone. She stays up on her pedestal where no one could ever truly reach her.”

“Only the worthy.”

“Who’s that? Finn? Clearly not. Robert? Not even he can have you. And you call me the narcissist? Look in the mirror, sweetheart.”

“I don’t think I’m better than anyone else, like you Cassadines. I just demand to be treated with respect. I deserve at least that.”

She stages a surprise attack, and pushes against the wall with her feet. She almost knocks me off balance, but I catch my footing and slam her back against the hard wood. My forehead is resting against the wood plank right next to her head as I take a deep, steadying breaths, straining my muscles to subdue her.

She smells like bourbon and tea...Earl Grey tea...and vanilla...a hint of bergamot. “God, you smell good.”

I could swear her legs relax at my words, and spread a little open. 

“Better than the bourbon,” I say.

“It takes more than $25,000 for a night with me.”

“I bet you taste better than the Pappy’s, too…” My eyes drop to her lips. “Nothing overrated about you, is there?”

She gives a very uncharacteristic whimper.

“Should I taste you, Anna? Where do you think I’d get the most robust flavor? Your lips? Your neck? Lower down?” I grind my cock against her, and her legs spread open, curling around me. I can feel her hot sex against me, and I know she wants it.

My head can’t believe it, though. Anna Devane is not obtainable. Wanting me is an impossibility...isn’t it?

I graze my lips over hers, giving her a chance to say ‘no.’ Her warm breath mixes with mine, and her heart is pounding against my chest.

“Tell me ‘no,’ Anna. Tell me to stop.”

She sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, and says with no conviction. “Stop.”

I press her harder against the wall, my cock dead center on her pussy. “Mean it!”

“Get off me,” she growls.

I rub my forehead against hers and take in her scent one last time before stepping back and giving her space. I shrug like it meant nothing to have her body pinned under mine, “Too bad you didn’t have the guts to hand Finn the vengeance he truly deserves.”

I turn to step away, but she grabs my arm, and somehow I’m flipped on my back. Maybe it’s the bourbon, or maybe it’s the blood flowing only in the southern half of my body, but it takes a moment to stop my head spinning. When I’m oriented again, I realize she’s sitting astride me…

A shock of fear races through my body. Her hand is on my throat and a cold bite of metal is pressing up under my jaw. SHIT!

“I...I...I always kn...knew you’d t...t...taste like gunpowder,” I stutter. Fuck, I hate that this woman brings it out in me.

She leans in close and applies pressure to my jugular. “How dare you hold me down.”

“Y..you were kick...kicking me. Was I supposed to just sit and take it?” Thankfully, I’m regaining my composure

“You deserved it,” she says, so damn superior.

My anger flares, “And what do you deserve for this?”

“A medal.”

My hands move to her hips as she sits astride me. She sucks in a breath and squeezes my neck a little tighter. Her skin is soft where it meets her pants. Damn, it feels good. My long fingers graze that forbidden skin. 

If I’m going to die, I might as well take what I can with me.

She squirms back and forth on top of me, like she’s trying to quiet some bothersome need. Only, I can tell by the increasing pressure against my cock, that her need is building, not quenching. I push against her sex to stoke the fire. 

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” I ask. “Holding a man’s life in your hands. That’s a little twisted, Agent Devane.”

She grinds against me, closing her eyes in pleasure, “Twisted? You’re the one turned on facing death.”

My hands grow bold and move up her waist to caress her skin. My thumbs graze her ribs back and forth. “A concept you understand better than anyone, I’m sure.”

Her dark eyes seem lost in a haze. I graze the bottom of her bra, irritated it’s in my way. She moans softly and gives a slight arch to her back. 

My hands trace the strap of the bra to her back, and set to work on the clasp.

The gun pushes harder into my neck. “You must have a death wish…”

The clasp is free. 

“What a way to go…” I say. My hands come around and find her breasts, and I squeeze them tight before she has the chance to pull away or fire her gun.

However, she pulls back neither the trigger, nor her body. Her hands drop from my neck, and she lays her head back to feel much touch. I’m squeezing her harder than I should, but she’s got me so damn worked up, I can’t seem to regulate my grip. When I pinch her nipples, she groans and rubs back and forth against me. 

I pull her shirt over her head, and yank the straps of her bra down her arms. My breath is strained and weak seeing her breasts for the first time. I sit up and wrap my arms around her, pulling a breast into my mouth. She whimpers and digs her fingers into my hair, scratching my scalp.

Her skin is much sweeter than I expected. Warm vanilla floods my senses. My rough tongue licks back and forth over her nipple. I latch on and bring it to a sharp peak.

Her body loves me, responds to me, every touch, every lick, every kiss...a triumph decades in the making.

My hands run down her slim back and grip her ass as I suck up her other breast. There’s a strength and elegance to her lusty movement. How can a woman who’s so slight, so delicate in my arms, be so strong and ferocious? 

But that’s Anna...spine of steel, with a dancer’s grace.

I roll her over to get off the rest of our clothes. I shed mine first, with quick and practiced movements. Anna waits for me to disrobe her bottom half, because one of her hands is still occupied by the Walther PPK. 

As I pull off her clothes, I ask, “Is the safety on that thing?”

“Is the safety on that thing?” she nods at my cock.

My ego is stroked, but I’m not distracted, “Toss it aside, Anna.”

“Scared, Ivan?”

“Just practicing safe sex, you know?”

“There’s nothing safe about this.”

She’s never been more right. I drop down to kiss her, but she tips my body and rolls me back on bottom. I grunt in frustration until, with a lift of her hips, she sheaths my cock.

Damn! She’s a tight fit! She grunts and cringes a moment, and I know I’ve stretched her more than she expected. Her sex is squeezing my cock with delicious little pulls as she adjusts to my size. 

I try to lift myself up to kiss her, but she pushes me back down. Her hand stays on my chest to keep me at bay. Slowly, she lifts herself up and drops back down. It’s an excruciating pleasure to hold still and let her have her way with me. It takes a few times for her to catch a comfortable rhythm. Soon, she’s no longer worried about comfort, and is just doing what feels good. 

God, she’s beautiful up there, breasts bouncing as she takes what she wants. She doesn’t meet my eyes. Hell, she tries not to look at me. I never expected sex with the woman, much less intimacy, but that doesn’t stop my disappointment. I’m a man who’s grown accustomed to getting anything I want the moment I want it. Anna makes me regress in my needy admiration for her unattainable heart.

At least I’m getting to fuck her body.

Rather, she’s fucking mine…

I’ll let her have her way for now...and I’ll get mine later.

She’s slick and hot over my cock as she changes her rhythm to a rolling of her hips. She moves hard and quick, in complete control of her body...in complete control of mine.

She allows my hands free reign because they’re there for her pleasure. I rub her clitoris at the same pace of her ride. Her strokes are getting rougher and wilder the longer she goes on. The friction is getting stronger around my cock, making it harder not to take control. 

Her skin is shining with exertion, perspiring more than her rock climb this morning. There’s probably a lot more at stake here than when she was dangling untethered off a cliff.

Suddenly, she stops and tenses, squeezing me tight between her thighs. Her sex is clamping down on my cock, and she’s moaning deep in her chest. She rolls her hips again, dragging out her climax. Eyes closed, she brings both hands up to her head, one tangling in her hair, the other still holding the gun. 

She’s making me nervous with that damn weapon. It’s pointed at the ceiling right now, but she’s tense from head to toe, and I’m not sure she won’t pull that trigger and scare the whole camp. Hell, I’m not sure that gun won’t point down at me as it’s fired. 

As scary as that is, it’s not making my cock any softer. She’s greedily contracting around my cock as her juices drip down my balls. I’m growing more and more eager for my chance at her.

I don’t wait for her to come down from her orgasm...I wait for the gun to drop lazily in her hand, then, I roll us over and take my superior position between her legs.

“Here,” she says, pulling my cock out of her sex. She rolls over, face down, ass in the air, and spreads her legs.

Even though I know she’s doing this to avoid a connection between the two of us, I can’t help but appreciate the view. The angle of her ass in the air over her spread legs...her tiny waist curving to her chest on the floor. That fucking gun still in her hand like a talisman. 

Part of me is wanting to rush in and fuck her blind before she changes her mind. The other part of me wants to sit a moment and marvel at her ass in the air, stroke her thighs, squeeze her flesh, tease her cunt, drag this out. I compromise between the two, groping every bit of her I can get my hands on while lining up my cock with her pussy. 

Before I push in, I pull her ass cheeks apart and watch her tense as I run a finger over her hole. I want to fuck every piece of this woman, though I know I won’t get the chance. Instead, I grip her hips and thrust my dick in her pussy until her ass is against my hips. 

It feels so fucking good. My cock, my head, my ego...everything feels so fucking good! I shove into her again, and grunt aloud when I smack against her ass. If she wants rough and impersonal, she can have it. I pull back and fuck into her again. The head of my dick is hitting the backside of her pubic bone in her pussy, so I know it’s getting her g-spot. Her moans might be pain or pleasure or both, but she doesn’t stop me, so I keep going. 

I start a rhythm of quick, teasing pulls of my head just pushing inside. I love her ass backing into me like she’s eager for more. When she’s not expecting it, I shove in hard, slapping pelvis to ass again. 

My abdomen is tight as I pick up speed, thumping into her, driven by my building need to cum in this woman. 

“Valentin…” she moans, finally saying my name right. She’s rocking back into me, meeting me stroke for stroke. Her voice is the sweetest music, and I bend over, curling around her body as I fuck her. I kiss the center of her back, sucking and licking up her taste, biting into her flesh.

It’s important for me to have her come again with me. I don’t know why...perhaps I want to know she’ll remember me well, perhaps I want the connection. Either way, I reach around with my long arms, and I work her clit. Every fuck from behind is a stroke to her front. My chest against her back is contact I crave. If I had more self-control, I’d slow this down, keep it going for hours. But this is Anna fucking Devane, and, just like she did with my bottle of bourbon, after appreciating the exquisiteness of the drink, she consumed it in a rush...so I do her.

My climax is imminent, so I speed my strokes to her clit. I try holding out, but everything is tensing and tightening. The pleasure is magnifying. I bite down on her shoulder to try holding it off, but at the sound of her voice yelling out is the last straw. I come in a rush, squeezing her in my arms, my weight falling on top of her. She’s squirming beneathing me, moaning, contracting...she’s coming, too. Thank the gods!

I nuzzle her spine as the wave of intense pleasure starts to fade, and the flow of contentment begins settling in. 

Before I’m ready to separate, she pulls away. An irritated disappointment comes over me as she stands up, gun still in hand, and gets into bed. I’m left naked and alone on the floor. 

I don’t think so...not after that.

I grab my pillow from the floor and follow her to the bed.

I hear the distinctive sound of the hammer being drawn back on a weapon. “Don’t even think about it, Ivan,” she snaps.

A wave of irritation washes over me as I stand naked and vulnerable to the woman who just used my body, yet won’t use my name.

“Stow your weapon, 007,” I say. I don’t think she’ll shoot me at this point.

Probably.

I toss my pillow onto the footboard of the bed, and climb in opposite her. She grumbles, but scoots over, facing the wall, making room for us to sleep head to foot.

The silence between us is painfully loud. Sex and intimacy are, apprently, not the same thing to Anna Devane, but with orgasm still affecting me, I can’t turn off my affection for the woman, especially when her warm body is inches from mine.

“Goodnight, Anna,” I say softly.

“Goodnight, Ivan,” she says.

I sigh in disappointment. “Please don’t call me Ivan. It won’t change what we’ve done. It won’t push me away.”

She’s quiet, but I imagine her rolling her eyes.

“At least, you used my name when mattered,” I say, remembering the echo of the sound.

The sounds of the wilderness take over as I close my eyes. My muscles are relaxed like the haven’t been in years. I hear faint howling far off in the distance as I begin drifting off…

“Goodnight, Valentin,” she says.

I smile. “Goodnight.”

Franco  
______________

I’ve never been much of a wine drinker, but Valentin wouldn’t give me his bourbon. I told him I’d pay him back, but he was a snob about it. He said I could have this bottle of pinot noir from Sonoma County. 

Elizabeth seems to like it, so I guess that’s all that matters. 

I keep the fire burning strong to keep us warm out here in our little spot overlooking the lake. The sun has been gone awhile now, and the night chill set in. I made us a shelter the perfect distance from the flame, not too close to risk getting burned, and not too far to render the heat useless. I cheated and brought blankets, pillows, and even hiked up the hill with the damn mattress. I want her comfortable and warm.

She’s not payin’ attention to the temperature right now. She sittin’ on that rock, paintin’ away in the dim light of the fire and a lantern. It’s a mesmerizin’ sight. 

I take a blanket from the bed and walk up behind her. She’s facin’ out toward the lake, which, before the sun went down, was the landscape she was paitin’. Now, she must be goin’ from memory, because the moonlight ain’t bright enough to see much of the water.

I wait until she puts the paintbrush down before drapin’ the blanket around her shoulders. “You must be gettin’ cold.”

A shiver runs down her spine, as though the blanket brought a warmth she didn’t realize she was lacking. “Thank you.”

“You’re talented, the way you blend all that mess of color together to make somethin’.”

She looks kinda sad. “Thank you.” 

She must be thinkin’ of how I used to do the same. I think she was hopin’ I’d have some sort of impulse to pick up a brush and create a masterpiece alongside her. The truth is I wouldn’t know where to begin.

“I think I’m done for the night,” she says. She cleans her brushes and packs them away. I grab her coffee mug of wine as she wraps herself in the blanket, and we both come back to the shelter by the fire.

“Here,” I top off her mug and hand it to her. 

She sits on the edge of the mattress, facing the fire. I fill my mug, too, and sit next to her. It feels right bein’ close to her like this, and the impulse to bolt is bein’ overpowered by the comfort of her presence…

It’s also nighttime, and I remember what happened last night. I don’t want to be away from her if it happens again. 

“Thank you for this,” she says, with the softest voice. “The painting, the picnic, the fire, the shelter, the wine...I don’t know how you did it all.”

I chuckle, “I have the memories of a man who spent years livin’ in deserts, mountains, and even a jungle, all the while, dodgin’ bullets and landmines. This was nothin’.”

“It’s something to me.”

She’s leanin’ against me...such a chaste touch for a married couple, but it doesn’t feel so chaste. There’s a hummin’ energy where my skin touches her, and I don’t know which of us it comes from. I haven’t felt like this since I was a teenager. As a man, if I wanted someone, I went after her. But there’s so much on the line here...her heart, mine, those boys. I can’t just go divin’ into somethin’ stupid.

“Being in nature seems to agree with you,” she says.

“Yeah...and bein’ away from the crowds.”

She nods, “It must be hard to be around so many strangers who say they know you better than you know yourself. This must be quite a reprieve.”

I hadn’t really thought about it like that, but I do feel less pressure with just the two of us. “Yeah, it also helps gettin’ to know you better. Gettin’ to like you more and more.”

A red flush moves across her fair cheek. “You like me?”

“It’s hard not to, and believe me, I tried.”

She’s smiling when she looks up at me. “I know the feeling.” For some reason, I think she’s talking about falling in love with me all those years ago.

My eyes are drawn from her sparklin’, blue eyes, to her full, pink lips. Our morning kiss is still fresh on my mind. 

Settle down. Gettin’ caught up in physical attraction to the woman ain’t gonna help me make good decisions here. I take a deep breath and turn my head back to the fire. I set my wine aside, lowerin’ my inhibitions doesn’t sound like a good idea right now.

“Can I ask you a question?” I say. 

“Of course.”

I try to say this gently, “The Franco that you knew may never come back...not fully. Would you still want this with me if he didn’t?”

She’s quietly considering her answer. I like that she does that. She doesn’t think out loud, but takes her time to figure things out. The words she does use mean so much more because she doesn’t waste them. 

“I made vows to you, Franco, and to our family. They’re more important to me than anything. So, yes, I would do everything in my power to make this work with you, even if I didn’t think you’d recover some of your old self.”

Her eyes glisten in the firelight. “Lucky for me…” she says, gesturing to the little camp I made for us, “It’s not such a hardship getting to know this part of you.”

Her soft smile is sweet and genuine on her exquisite face. The longer I stare, the more captivating she is. She’s somehow familiar, yet a complete novelty. 

I feel a rush of emotion stirring, at first, just stealing a breath and speeding my heart. But the longer I watch her, the more it knocks the air out of me, making me lightheaded and a little dizzy.

“Franco? Are you ok?” She sets her mug down and touches my cheek. I wonder how must look. Stunned? Terrified? Enamoured? 

Where in the hell are these feelings coming from? Their intensity has my brain buzzing, unable to speak, unable to move. They don’t feel like they belong to me. 

“Franco?” Her fingers run through my hair, pushing it out of my face. An image of her doing the same thing to my much longer hair passes through my mind, and for a moment, what I’m feeling makes perfect sense.

The image is gone a second later, but the feelings remain.

“Elizabeth,” I whisper. Her name suddenly seems so precious. A romantic name, so classic, such a contrast to my own. “Elizabeth…”

And how she looks at me with those blue eyes...so adoring. She’s stunning. Why am I seeing it so clearly at this moment, but was so blind to it before? What’s happening to me? 

It doesn’t matter. She’s perfect. Completely out of my league. “How did a man like Franco Baldwin ever win a woman like you?”

She cradles my cheek, and says, “We both won.”

I don’t know how to handle everything I’m feeling right now. I want to run away and clear my head, but her hand is on my cheek, and there’s no way I could pull away from her touch. It’s like a magnet drawing me in.

My lips drop slowly, as though they have a mind of their own. Their slow pace is giving her all the time in the world to stop me. I keep my eyes open, transfixed by her beauty, and I don’t close them even as our lips meet. Her mouth is softer than the petals of a tulip, and it makes the most alluring sigh when she’s kissed.

My arms surround her body, and it’s like fitting two pieces of a puzzle together perfectly...like she’s supposed to be there. Like I know her. My body knows her. This is where she should be. Our tongues fit together in just the same way, caressing their lover, their partner.

I don’t know if I close my eyes, or if an image takes over my brain, but I see her...Elizabeth...standing in front of me, dressed in flowers. It must be a memory. In the memory, I’m telling her, “You know, I never mean to scare you, or annoy you, or make you feel anything other than just better.”

I pull back and shake my head to clear my vision, but her hands are skimming my cheeks, soft as feathers, luring me back in. I’m confused, trying to separate these visions of the past with what’s happening here in front of me.

I see her as she is now, alight by campfire, and she pulls me close to kiss her again.

When our lips meet, I’m back with her in that other place. I hear myself say, “Do you really believe I’ve changed?” 

She says, “I do. I know you have.”

The echo of those words in my mind are a beacon of hope...one I don’t really understand. All I know is they matter more than anything else ever has.

I pull back again and try to replay the scene in my head. I close my eyes and search for what happened next.

“Promise me something,” I say aloud. “Promise me that whenever you make toast, that you’ll think kindly of me?”

Elizabeth sucks in a quiet breath, and whispers along with her voice in my head, “Even if it burns? Yes.”

I shake my head, now fully back in reality. “What was that?”

Moisture is building in her eyes, and her lips are parted in surprise. “Our first kiss.”

A part of me wants to pull back, to fight the memory, to keep my identity. But this one memory gives me more life than anything I’ve ever felt before. As though my entire previous existence was dull and muted, a mere shadow, an echo in comparison.

My head dips down, and I kiss her again. And again. And again.

I love the way she feels against my lips and in my arms, but that’s not the sensation I’m chasing. It’s this feeling of both voracity and satiation, of need and fulfillment, of desire and gratification. Even more than that, it’s affection, and possession, and appreciation, and, above all, FEAR...fear of losing this...fear of never having this again. 

I check my fear. I don’t let it sweep me away. I sit with the memory of her words, that even if this burns, she’ll want me anyway. She made her vows, she MEANT her vows, she remembers her vows. She wants me, no matter who I am.

I want to make love to her. I want her naked body wrapped around mine. Although, I can’t remember making love to this woman, it’s almost like I can FEEL it, her skin on my skin, her warmth on my body, her need blending with mine. I WANT it!

But I’m not sure if she does…

I mean, I know she wants me. I can feel that, but I don’t know if this is the right place, the right time. I’m uncertain and anxious and insecure in a way I don’t ever remember being before. My instinct is to defer to her. It feels right letting her take the lead when it comes to my head and my heart. 

I lick into her mouth one more time before pulling back. For some reason I can’t find the words to tell her what I’m thinking and feeling, but instead of staying quiet and figuring them out, I blather on, “Wow. Elizabeth, you’re amazing...this...this is incredible. I think I might be crazy about you.”

She’s smiling, and with every word I ramble, her grin grows wider and wider as she silently watches me make a fool of myself.

“I don’t want to be presumptuous or anything, and I don’t want to pressure you...I mean, if you think we should wait until I remember more...Or if there’s a better time…I don’t know...but I want to be with you...God you must think I’m crazy...”

Her hand strokes across my cheek, silencing me, soothing me.

“I want it, too,” she says. “Kiss me. Make love to me.”

I do exactly as she says...My lips are on hers, and my hands are in her hair. I’m stuck between losing myself in this woman as quickly as I can, or drawing it out and letting it play out forever. My decision is made with the thought that a woman like Elizabeth is meant to be cherished...adored...revered.

I peel her shirt off, and set it gently aside. The mix of pale moonlight, and a strong campfire highlight all the tones of her skin...warm and cool. Inexplicably, I know just what colors to mix to capture each one...how to make the highlights and shadows...every curve...every perfect shape.

When I look at her, I FEEL…

When I touch her, I REMEMBER... 

All art is a collaboration between artist and consumer. I remember seeing the “Ecstasy of Saint Teresa” for the first time, and thinking the elicitation of emotion, of desire, of anticipation and fulfillment, were the final piece of Bernini’s masterpiece. My response to his work was his REAL masterpiece...how he made me feel was his true work of art. 

That is what Elizabeth is doing to me right now. She’s evoking a sense of vitality in this hibernating body. Her artistry is in her form, and it’s in the function of her affect on the world around her...on the people around her...on me.

As I kiss down her neck and remove her bra, a flash of a memory crosses my mind. Red paint that was meant for her lips canvas was smeared on her collarbone...A vision of her draped in white and blue... 

Memory blends with reality as I take her breast in my mouth. She inhales a deep breath to fuel her arousal. The way the contrasting lights of moon and fire play off her perfect skin are like a kaleidoscope of color on her perfect form.

I suck on her nipple, feeling it turn into a hard peak, and I think, maybe I am the one who’s the artist. Her body is the piece that I get to manipulate with my tongue and hands. I kiss across her chest to her other nipple, creating a wake of goosebumps and moist flesh. The light reflects off the trail of moisture, intoxicating me further, knowing I put it there, knowing I’m making her moan in pleasure, that I’m helping manifest her desire.

My hand circles her breast as I lick over her nipple, and I know this is a true collaboration. She’s both artist and masterpiece. I’m both artist and consumer. Together, we create and consume and evoke, and I understand, truly, for the first time why she would choose a man like me when this is what we make together.

I lay her down on the mattress, more grateful than ever that my concern for her comfort allowed for a proper base for our love making. I take off my clothes, wanting to feel the elements myself before subjecting her fully to them. The fire is warm, but her body is warmer. I remove the rest of her clothes as gently and reverently as one would handle the Shroud of Turin.

And there she lays beneath me...an angel in dancing light. I’ve seen this before...but in our bed…

I bend down, and her legs spread open for me, blooming like a moon vine. I place a reverent kiss on the top of her sex. Her skin is hot beneath my lips, and hotter still as I dip my tongue in her cleft. She moans and lifts her pelvis against my mouth. 

Her taste is pure and feminine, and her sounds are a chorus in my ears. I take my time pleasuring her, licking slow and gentle. Each of her reactions is both a novelty to be observed, and a nostalgia to be enjoyed. 

I look to her face as I suck gently on her clitoris. Her unfocused eyes are on the stars, and I hope Venus is giving us her blessing. I’m done with all my memories of Mars.

Elizabeth climaxes against my mouth with the most beautiful elegance. And as I’m licking up her pleasure, I’m overcome with disbelief that I’m the man she’s allowed to please her...to love her.

I’m in a near drunken daze as I crawl over her. My hard length is aching to be pushed inside. Her arms are around my neck, pulling me down to her lips. I cradle her whole body in my arms, and hesitate only a moment before pushing in. 

I KNOW this feeling...being wrapped around her...being inside her...joining with my Elizabeth.

My fierce desire for more of what she’s making me feel has me speeding my hips faster than I want to go. I don’t want this to end too soon, but I can’t stop myself from being swept away.

Her sex is squeezing mine, her arms are pulling me close. Her mouth reluctantly leaves mine, so I know she’s as caught up as me. “Franco!” she moans as I push harder. And that’s the first time since I woke in the hospital that I own that name with all I am, because THAT name means I get to be with THIS woman.

As my pleasure heads toward its peak, I’m in awe that the physical part of this, as incredible as it is, is dwarfed by my affection and permanently solidified attachment to this woman. I love her.

“I love you,” I say, finding her eyes. “I love you, Elizabeth.”

“I love you,” she returns. Tears are falling down her cheeks, and I kiss them away. “I love you, too, Franco.”

I hear an echo of those words from a memory of the two of us in bed...her kissing my wounds…

It’s all coming back. 

SHE’s all coming back.

I force myself to hold off my climax for her. I need her there with me. I need it to be US. I’m done with the loneliness that I was so oblivious to without her.

When she yells out and clamps down around me, I let myself go. For a moment, my pleasure is selfish and erases all else from my head. My self-indulgence lasts only as long as my vision is blurred coming inside her. 

When I open my eyes...all I see is Elizabeth...all I feel is her.

“I love you, wife,” I say when I find my breath.

I can still feel her coming down around me as she says, “I love you, husband.”

Neil  
______________

These cabins are a little small for what I have in mind, but I can be creative, and it’s not like I haven’t been thinking about how to do this since the moment I invited her here. I moved the little bed to the corner of the room to give us as much space as possible. 

Alexis is sitting on the bed watching me light the last of the candles around the room. She’s tense, frozen stiff, except for chewing on her bottom lip. Strange how a woman who fidgets like mad, and rambles on and on when she’s nervous, is over there watching me as quiet as a mouse.

I set the lighter aside, and turn to face her. She really is beautiful. Sharp, dark eyes and a natural elegance. She would be intimidating if she didn’t have that warm, inviting soul. 

The first time I saw her, I was enamoured. She was spitting fire at her ex-husband, while, in contrast, politely rambling to me. She was obviously intelligent, and surprisingly conscientious for a woman calling a man an “arrogant bastard” from across the bar.

A strange start for a therapist and patient.

A strange start for lovers.

And now, here she sits, awaiting me to guide her through a whole new experience, not too unlike her journey in therapy. Although, this time, it’s about her AND me. I push the thought of being her therapist out of my head. It hasn’t been a problem for us yet, and I’m prone to worry when it’ll rear its ugly head.

Shaking off the thought, I get back to the matter at hand. I step in front of Alexis for the first time with nothing standing in our way.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, eyes darting to the flickering candlelight.

“Beautiful,” I say, eyes unmoving on her. She lets off a sweet blush that shows more in her eyes than the color of her cheeks.

I grab the bottom of my shirt and pull it over my head, tossing it aside. She bites her lip again when she sees my chest, but this time it’s not out of nerves. Damn, if that look of appreciation doesn’t make a man feel good, nothing in the world could.

I extend a hand in invitation, and even though she told me she’s ready for this, I’m still fearful she’ll run screaming. Thankfully, she accepts my invitation, and I pull her up to stand in front of me. I can’t help sucking in a breath when she touches my chest. Her fingers are feather-light over my bare skin and send an anticipatory shiver down my spine to my cock.

Damn it, I want her!

“Let’s get these clothes off,” I say far more quiet and controlled than I feel. Her lips part and suck in air as I reach down and slip my hands under her shirt. There’s that soft skin at her small waist. She trembles when I lift the shirt over her head. I don’t let her catch her breath before quickly releasing her bra and pulling it off her shoulders.

Still a little shy, even after our night together, she presses her body against mine so she doesn’t have to endure my scrutiny. Oh, just wait, princess. 

Her seemingly delicate frame fits so well in my arms. Her breasts mold to my body, soft and malleable against my firm chest, eliciting a flare of dominant masculinity that I haven’t felt in years. 

I take her mouth with mine, needing to taste her again. When you fantasize about someone day after day, week after week, month after month, reality is either a catastrophic letdown, or far beyond the confines of a limited imagination. Alexis is more...so much more than my weak mind could ever dream.

I hook her pants and underwear with my thumbs, and pull them down. After she steps out, she’s completely naked. I admire the view as I slowly stand. This woman’s body is more perfect for me than any other I’ve ever seen before. It’s like she was built exactly to my taste, and offered as a reward for some unknown service I’ve rendered the gods.

“One moment,” I say. I reluctantly leave her side to retrieve the cuffs and rope from the bag. I don’t want to pull out too many things at once, or it will ruin the surprise.

The black cuffs are several inches wide, and have a soft, velvety texture on the inside and a sturdy leather strap on the outside. I rest the black rope over my shoulder as I present the cuffs to Alexis. Her eyes are wide and her hands cover her gaping mouth. Her shoulders are bouncing in silent laughter.

“Have I scared you away?” I chuckle.

She drops her hands from her mouth and nervously rubs them together in front of her chest. “That depends what you’re planning on doing with those.”

I tuck one cuff under my arm, and I offer a hand, palm up, in invitation. Alexis only hesitates a moment before she places her right hand in mine. I notice she didn’t give me her dominant hand first...I’ll earn that trust soon enough.

I wrap her wrist snugly in the cuff, and fasten the leather strap. I take the other cuff from under my arm and wait for her to offer me her left. I can see her mind racing with a million reasons she shouldn’t do this. 

Just give me your hand, princess, and I can make those worries disappear. 

Finally, she offers me her left hand, and I repeat the process. 

I hold both of her hands in mine. Fuck, that black leather looks good against her olive tones. I have to take a moment to reel myself in...stick to the plan…

“Come,” I say.

“So soon?” she laughs.

She makes me snort in laughter. “Follow me,” I amend.

I hold her hand and lead her to the center of the open space. I’m surrounded by candlelight, and the woman in front of me looks like an angel. I should be on my knees worshiping her. Instead, all I can think about is how badly I want to defile her.

I take a step back and grab the rope off my shoulder. I hold one end, and toss the other over the beam running across the room. I hear her intake of breath as I catch it on the way down. The look in her eyes tells me she knows exactly what I’m planning for her. 

“Your hands…” I say.

She bites her lip and shakes her head in disbelief. I know she won’t refuse; she’s too curious.

“Do I need a safe word, or something?” she asks.

“Only if you want one. I’ll stop anytime you ask me to.”

“Ok...I trust you.” She offers her hands. 

I slip one side of the rope through the metal rings on both cuffs, and tie a knot so her hands are bound together. I slip the other side of the rope through the rings and give a strong, steady pull. 

Her arms rise in the air above her head. Her breath is ragged as I pull tighter. I want her feet to barely carry her weight on the floor, and I want her fully extended. When she’s in the right position, I tie off the rope to keep her in place.

I take a step back to look at the sexiest sight I’ve ever seen in my life. With her arms pulled so high above her head, her breasts are pushed out and lifted up. Her pussy is on full display, beautifully waxed, and ready to be ravished. But the best part is her face, flush with arousal, framed in dark tresses, and a hooded look in her brown eyes.

She’s watching me. I fucking love her eyes on me. The way she looks up at me with all that want and need. 

I step back to her, running my hands from her hips, up the sides of her body, all the way up to her wrists. “How do you feel? You ok?”

“I’m good,” she huffs.

“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life. You’re a sexy woman, Alexis.”

She’s squirming back and forth on the balls of her feet, and I realize just how hot this is making her. I wrap an arm around her waist and cup her cheek. “You’re more than good, aren’t you? You really like this.”

She doesn’t speak. Her dark eyes tell me all I need to know. My lips are on hers again, encouraging and rewarding her bravery. How scary this must be for her. I need to make it worth it. 

I drop my hand from her cheek down to her pretty little pussy, dipping my fingers in her folds. Jesus Christ, she’s soaking wet. Helpless whimpers escape her lips as she rolls her hips against my hand. 

“Your cunt is hot and wet for me, baby.” I push two fingers in her silky core, and her pussy squeezes me tight, demanding more. I give her what she wants, and pump my fingers in and out. I’m not gentle, either. I’m pushing hard and fast against her g-spot. “You want me to make you come, don’t you? You’ve been neglected way too long, and you’re desperate to cream on my hand, aren’t you?”

She’s moaning and pushing against me as hard as her restrained body will allow. I add a third finger, and she lets out a welp and bucks her hips. “More, Neil! More!”

She’s about to come, I can feel it in the way she’s tensing all over...I pull my fingers out abruptly. My other hand moves up her back to snag a handful of that dark, soft hair that smells so fucking good. I pull back to lift her head to meet my gaze. My other hand, soaked in her honey, traces up her body and grabs a breast. The natural lubricant on her soft skin makes for a slick texture as I massage her full swells of flesh.

“We’re going to play a little game, princess.” My voice is deep and rough with lust. I roll a nipple between my fingers, and say, “It’s called, ‘try NOT to climax.’ I’m going to have my way with you, and I want you to relax and enjoy without losing it for as long as you can.”

“It would seem,” she pants, “that if I lost this game, I’d also win.”

I chuckle, “Don’t throw the game too soon. Put up a good fight, and you’ll thank me for it later.” I kiss her bottom lip, pulling it between my teeth. I take her sweet moan as agreement.

You don’t suspend someone from the rafters in the middle of the room just to enjoy the view from the front. I release her hair and circle her naked body, trailing my hand on the soft skin of her abdomen and lower back. Her ass is taut and pretty, straining to keep her feet firmly on the ground. I wonder how quickly she’ll give up on that, and just hang from the cuffs. 

My hands glide gently over the cheeks of her ass, and she shivers at the contact. Oh, it’s a damn good time learning how a woman reacts to different kinds of touch. I stop a moment to place soft kisses across the back of her shoulders, and grab her ass, one cheek in each hand. It’s a firm grip, and might even be painful if she wasn’t so aroused. My gentle lips on her skin, and her anticipation for what’s to come, won’t let her feel pain for something like this.

She moans and arches her back, pushing her ass harder into my hands. I let her go and give her a quick swat on each cheek. Not hard, just waking up her senses, getting her blood flowing, and her endorphins rushing. I check her arousal, running my hand down her ass and between her legs. Her pussy is slick and dripping, eager for me to have my fun. 

I’m ready, too, having to adjust my cock in my pants.

I make my way around to her front, and cup her face in my hands. Her lips are full and moist, and just a goddamn delight to kiss on. I love how she responds, open, eager, and leaning into my mouth. 

As we kiss, my hands explore her body. I trace over her ribs, wondering just how thumping leather will sound against such firm resistance. I continue my exploration across her breasts, squeezing her tits and tweaking her nipples. 

I catch her whimpers in my mouth, and turn it into a groan of my own. Down I drop in front of her, hard on my knees. My mouth is on her belly, trailing kisses down to her pelvic bone. 

“Neil,” she moans, and my name has never sounded better. 

“Spread your legs as wide as you can, Alexis. There you go.” She’s lifted on the balls of her feet and spread in an inverted Y. I press my mouth her pussy and suck up her clit. She squeals and squeezes her legs together to ease the ache deep inside. 

“Spread ’em,” I crack her on the ass and wait for her to put her legs back where they should be. She’s huffing and weak in the knees, so I grab a leg and put it over my shoulder before returning my attention to her clit. I lick around the little nub, taking in her flavor. I suck it up and flick it up and down with my tongue. She’s using her leg over my shoulder as leverage now, pressing her pussy against my mouth. I let go of her clit and lick deep inside. Her honey coats my tongue, and I suck it up, taking in a taste so uniquely her. I lick the soft spongy tissue of her g-spot, and she bucks against my face. 

Back and forth I move from inside out, licking, sucking and nibbling. I look up to her face, and I can tell by her strained expression that she’s doing her best to avoid orgasm. Good girl. My little rule follower. I really shouldn’t push her too far with this if I want to get to some of the toys, but I’m also eager to push her boundaries and find her limits. 

I keep my eyes on her as I suck up one of her labia. I lick and nibble while my finger presses in her pussy. I massage inside, paying attention to the rolls of her hips to guide my knowledge of what feels best.

“Neil…” she warns. “This game is going to be over really soon if you keep doing that.”

“Don’t come,” I demand. I suck up her other labia and pull out my wet finger. Though I don’t plan on much in the way of anal today, I’m curious to see how she’ll respond. I drag my finger back to her ass, and circle her hole. No tension, no tightening, just a little wiggle. Oh, with a response like that, I can’t help myself. I push my finger in her ass. I can tell by the way she’s relaxed and lets me in, I’m not in virgin territory. 

Her hips seemed confused as to what direction to seek pleasure any longer. I close my mouth over her clit again, and work my finger gently in and out. 

“Neil, honey, I’m not kidding,” she whines. “I’m about to come.”

I grunt, frustrated I have to stop if I want to keep playing my game. And Alexis isn’t quite where I need her yet. I release her clit, and pull my finger out before she loses it.

Her skin is hot and soft as I kiss up her body. I pull our chests together and take her mouth again. 

“How are you doing, Alexis? Are your arms ok?”

“So good,” she says, finding my mouth again. 

“And here?” I say, dropping my hand to her pussy and running my finger through her lips.

“Needy.”

I grin. “Good.”

I force myself away from her warm body, a Herculean effort if there ever was one. I tear my eyes away from her and zero in on the duffel bag. I retrieve two items, one, a smaller bag with a pulled drawstring holding additional contents inside, and the other, a flogger with an eight inch handle and about two dozen strips of black leather dangling from one end. I rest the flogger over my shoulder and turn my attention to the little bag.

When I face Alexis, her eyes are dark and wide. She’s staring warily at the flogger. I can’t wait to see her reaction when I take it to her soft skin. There’s nothing quite like the first time.

I stop about a foot in front of her and loosen the drawstring on the little bag, forcing her eyes away from the flogger. Curiosity fills her gaze as I reach in and pull out the little egg inside, holding it from the silicone tail.

“Do you know what this is?” I ask.

“I can make an educated guess.”

“I don’t think we’re going to need the lubricant I brought for this,” I chuckle. She’s wet enough to coat half the damn toys in the bag. 

Her eyes are adorably expressive as I grab the egg at the base of the tail and bring it to her pussy. I gather her arousal all around the egg before pushing it in until all that remains is the tail. I give it a little tug to make sure it won’t easily fall out.

“I’m guessing there’s a remote?” she says. 

I pull out my phone from my pocket and open up the app. “Bluetooth.” There’s a preprogrammed list of rhythms, a dial for speed, and another for intensity. I set it to a nice low, steady buzz.

“Mmm,” she moans, squeezing her legs together. I toss the bag aside and hold the phone in my left hand. With my right, I grab the flogger off my shoulder. 

“Have you ever played with a flogger before?” I ask. 

“I’ve been threatened with a scourge in my youth,” she teases in breathless pleasure, probably with all too much truth. 

“I chose this one because I like the weight of the leather strips. It’s not so much of a whipping sting when it hits, but a thudding bite.”

I run the tails over her breasts so she can feel what’s coming. She sucks in a deep breath of anticipation. The smell of leather was meant to be paired with the scent of sex. I want her conditioned to arousal everytime she smells a piece of leather. I trail the dangling pieces over her skin as I make my way around her body deciding where I want to start first. The ass is always a good safe place to start. It’s usually expected, and the cushy tissue can handle more than the rest of the body. So, naturally, that’s the LAST place I want to start. 

I walk around her once more, high on the feeling of having this woman’s pleasure at my mercy. It makes me puff out my chest, walk a little straighter, a little taller. There’s a hauty arrogance that comes with a woman like Alexis Davis allowing me to have my way with her, and it’s more evident than ever when I’m holding an ancient torture device in one hand, controlling her vibrating pleasure with the other, all while she’s cuffed up to the beams in my cabin. For the most part, I’m not all that into the power exchanges of BDSM, but I’ve got to admit, this woman brings out the more raw masculine instincts in me.

I change the vibration to a pulsing rhythm of “short, short, long,” and put the phone in my pocket. As she’s adjusting to the new sensation, I step up right behind her, so my cock, straining against my jeans, is rubbing against her backside. I pull aside her hair and kiss the base of her neck. She’s moaning and squirming against me as I suck her skin up in my mouth. I wrap one arm around her waist, just under her tits, so her body his tight against mine. I draw back the flogger, and with an easy swing of the arm, I bring the leather around, and flick my wrist so it hits straight on her pussy. The sound of two dozen leather thuds on her most sensitive skin mixes with a shocked cry.

Music to my ears!

I bring the flogger to my other hand around her waist so I can rub her pussy. The skin is hot and pulsing to the touch. “How are you doing, baby?”

She rolls her hips against my hand in response. She fucking loves it. I grab the flogger in my right hand again, and this time, I give quick, light hits to the thighs from my position behind her. She’s sucking in breaths every time the leather hits skin. 

“Neil…” she moans. “Oh, God.”

I let her go so I can come around and see her head on. Her eyes are half closed in a sexual haze...almost where I need her…

Her skin is pink on her thighs and pussy. I reach down to feel the heat once again. It’s taking every once of self-control I have no to just fuck her senseless right here and now. 

I force myself to stand and take a deep breath. Just a little more. I set to work on her body, circling around and nailing her with the flogger. Her stomach, her ribs, her tits, her back. I work from the top of her shoulders down to her thighs, then come back again to her ass. I don’t hit her hard enough to break skin, but with every hit, she’s growing more and more dazed. More and more stimulation is needed to register in the humming state of her arousal. 

Back again to her front, hitting her belly, her tits, and under her arms. She’s huffing and squirming, and I know that each hit with the flogger is shooting a jolt of pleasure to her pussy. 

I’m right there with her, in my flow, with single-minded focus of making her feel far more than good. Another hit to the tits, and she screams out. There’s no pain on her face, no sign of discomfort. She’s in her space of hypofrontality...subspace, they call it in the lifestyle. 

But she’s starting to shake, her body is lost in that tantric like state when withholding orgasm for so long under such high arousal.

“You’re doing great, baby. You’re doing damn fine.”

I take out my phone and increase the speed and intensity of the vibrations, then toss it aside. I hook her ankle with my foot, pulling her leg wide, making her hang from the rafters as I swing the flogger underhand to hit her from clit to ass in one strike. 

Her responding scream tells me I can’t push her any further if I want her coming on my cock. I drop the flogger and grab her around the waist. I yank out the egg, and throw it across the room. My mouth is on hers, kissing hard and deep, sucking her tongue, licking every corner of her mouth. Her body is on fire from head to toe, never used so raw. 

I drop my pants and kick them off, done with self-control. I pull the knot binding her wrists to release them. Her arms drop around my neck, barely holding on. I lift her legs around my waist and walk her back to the wall. 

With one unceremonious thrust, I’m in her cunt, pinning her to the hard, wooden surface. Her sounds fill my ears, incoherent moaning screams, no inhibition, no holding back. My hips pull back and start driving into her over and over and over. She comes loud and wet, gravity pulling her cum down my legs. Her nails are digging into my back, slicing me open. Her pussy is clamping down on my cock like it’s trying to crush the fucking life out me. Suddenly, my gut clenches tight, my balls draw up, and I’m shooting cum against her cervix. 

“Fuck!” I yell, so damn overcome, I can’t see straight. My hips can’t stop moving against her, drilling her to the wall. Something more than pleasure is in my head...euphoria...a transcendent reality.

The pleasure doesn’t leave in a rush. It stays humming and vibrating throughout my body as time stretches on. Alexis is completely limp in my arms. If I stepped away, she’d crash to the floor. Her pussy is still squeezing little contractions around my cock, like a dessert wine after a twelve course French meal. 

I nuzzle into her neck, smelling flowers, sweat, and pheromones.

“Neil...” she whimpers in the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard. It’s exhausted and loving and gentle and somehow still intimate in it’s disconnection with reality.

“Alexis,” I say. My voice is lower and rougher than I intend it to be. I want to soothe her, take care of her in this helpless state. 

Her weak head lifts as her eyes try to find mine. Her lids are half-closed, and a lazy smile is in her eyes. Her mouth is slightly parted, and her hot breath is dancing across my lips.

I’m struck with a painful rush of affection for her. It grips me hard in the chest. She is perfect. That was perfect. And as much as I enjoyed the sex, it’s HER that has me captivated. Her openness, her bravery, her beauty, her incredible mind. There’s no one more perfect in the world. Certainly no one more perfect for me.

Her forehead rests against mine, too tired to talk. But, I can see in her eyes what she can’t say with her mouth. It’s no different than the thoughts in my own head. 

I pull out, and carry her across the room. It’s not abnormal to have an emotional crash after a sexual experience like that, and if it happens, I want her in my arms on a soft bed. When we’re horizontal, I expect her to roll over and let me spoon her from behind, but instead, she rolls into me, her face in my chest, hips against my hips, legs tangling with mine. 

I kiss the top of her head, and squeeze her close to me. Minutes tick by as I stroke her hair, and whisper how madly I adore her and how I’ve never seen anything to rival her beauty. I think she must be asleep, because her breath is so slow and her body relaxed.

She surprises me by lifting her eyes to mine. I stroke her soft cheek and look at her with all the affection I feel. She looks like she’s trying to say something, but words won’t come.

Finally, she stops trying to find insufficient words, and kisses me. It’s a tender kiss...a lover’s kiss. Her lips on my lips, her tongue on my tongue, this moment more intimate than any we’ve had before. 

And I know with certainty...I’m in love with her.

Valentin  
______________

A piercing scream jolts me awake. Anna’s flying out of bed with her PPK in hand. She grabs my shirt off the floor, and has it on before my feet hit the ground. Stumbling around in my sleepy haze, I track down my pants in the dark. I’m still pulling them up as I chase after her out the door.

“Shit,” I whisper. Sticks and dry pine needles poke my bare feet. “Anna?”

“Shhh,” she whispers from two cabins up. Her gun is in a ready position, and she’s peeking around the wall of the cabin. She looks sexy as hell wearing nothing but my shirt.

She spins around the building and says, “Drop your weapon, hands in the air!”

As I rush over to see what’s happening, I hear, “Anna, it’s me. Max.”

I turn the corner to find Max Giambetti in his boxers, awkwardly looking for a place to stow his gun. 

“What happened? What was that noise?” she demands. “Who was screaming?”

Max chuckles and points to the cabin next to him. “It looks like the good doctor is practicing position fourteen from his handbook.”

“What?” Anna steps up to the cabin, looking in the window. There’s a small crack in the curtains, and once she sees what’s inside, cringes and turns away. “Dear God.”

“What is it?” I ask.

Anna flicks the safety on her weapon into place. She walks past me in the direction of her cabin. I follow behind, careful not to step on any pinecones. 

“What happened, Anna?”

“Don’t worry. It was your sister and Dr. Byrne. She’s doing just fine. In fact, you probably would’ve benefited from that lecture.”

I cringe, both at the idea of what the doctor was doing to my sister to make her scream like THAT, and that Anna might think our time together was lacking.

“Hey, wait up!” I reach for her arm. “That shrink would have nothing on me if you weren’t being so uptight.”

“Uptight? Please. You’re just not accustomed to being with a woman who doesn’t give you control.”

“You had a gun in your hand the whole time, and that doesn’t make you question if you’re a little uptight?”

She smirks, “What? You don’t like to play with toys in the bedroom?”

“Don’t change the subject. You don’t get to compare me to the doctor when I haven’t had a chance to show you everything I can do. You wouldn’t even let me kiss you.”

She looks away irritated. “Why would you need to kiss me? It’s sex, Valentin. We weren’t making love.”

“All I’m saying is it would've been different if you let me do I wanted to you.”

“If you had all the control, you mean.”

“Not all, but some!”

“Don’t flatter yourself thinking you could make me scream like THAT. I’ve survived explosions, gunshots, cancer, seizures, kidnapping, and lovers from all over the world. Nothing makes me scream like that anymore.”

I grab her by the arms, and pull her in for a kiss. My lips are hard against hers. She struggles, at first, tense and half-heartedly pushing me away. I wrap my arms tight around her, gripping her hair, and pulling her against my awakening anatomy.

She finally relaxes enough for me to slip my tongue between her lips. I lick deep in her mouth, coaxing her tongue into a dance with mine. Her arms aren’t fighting anymore; they’re limp and hanging around my neck.

I never dreamed I’d be kissing Anna in the moonlight, sharing one set of clothes between the two of us, just after having sex...about to do it again. 

She’s all in on the kiss now, tongue meeting mine stroke for stroke. One of her legs is curling around my mine. I take her cue and lift her thighs, wrapping them around my waist. I hold her ass in my hands as I carry her slight frame back to the cabin. I lean her against the wall as I feel for the doorknob. It takes me a moment to get it open. 

A movement from the corner of my eye turns my head. Anna’s still kissing down my neck, oblivious to her surroundings for the first time since I met her. Someone is watching from the closest cabin. 

Finn.

His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is hanging open. I can’t help but smirk in his direction. I turn my head and meet Anna’s mouth again...she’s none the wiser of her fiance’s presence. 

The first thing I do when we get back into the room is coax the gun from her hand. I want her whole mind and body this time...no defenses. I want to make her scream my name loud enough for Finn to hear.

It’s not until I’ve taken her to bed and made love to her with everything I have, that I remember who Finn is sharing his cabin with…

I still don’t regret it. 

Elizabeth  
______________

I wake up alone...again. I’m bundled in blankets by a still roaring fire. It’s light out...the sun is up. 

Fear and defeat sit heavy on my heart as I process my isolation after last night. Did he forget everything the moment he fell asleep?

“Franco?” I say, as I force myself up.

Relief sets in when I see him not far away. He didn’t hear me, so focused on what he’d doing.

I suck in a breath watching, and tears form in my eyes. I let them fall, knowing they’re safe with him now. With MY Franco.

He’s sitting on the rock overlooking the lake. He has my painting of the lake from last night, but he’s adding to it...a figure jumping off the rocks…

He’s painting me taking my leap of faith. Except, my body is covered only by a thin, sheer fabric trailing behind me with my momentum. I almost looks like I’m flying...


	4. Transform Conflict Into Bridges

Elizabeth  
______________

Even though he’s silent, I know he’s my Franco. His eyes are telling me how much he adores me. His hands hold me with so much care. His lips kiss me with gratitude and reverence and need.

I rise up and lower back down on him again and again. I like seeing him like this...laying back, relaxed and vulnerable...letting me make love to him. His chest is firm and masculine beneath my fingers, and it’s mine to touch, mine to love. I bend down and kiss his where his heart is beating so I can feel it on my lips. 

“I love you, Franco.” 

He cradles my face in his hands as he looks up at me. I still my hips as he speaks, “I remember promising to come back to you. The last image in my head before everything went dark was this...your face...looking at me just as you are right now...loving me. I knew if anything could bring me back to you, it would be this right here. I love you, Elizabeth.”

I kiss him, and I don’t even fight the tears in my eyes. Moisture is forming in his, too, and seeing emotion from my husband fills me with a lightness, a relief of the heavy weight his stoic expression imposed on me for far too long. “You saved our son. Time and time again you prove how great a man you are. Thank you. Thank you for saving our family. Thank you for coming back to me.”

He wipes the tears from my eyes, “I needed Cam to be ok, for me as much as you. Our family is everything to me. Everything.”

He can’t keep up with my tears anymore, so he just kisses me again, and we both let them fall. His tongue is gentle and familiar in it’s passion, in how he caresses mine. Each kiss brings more and more relief from being without him all these months.

I sit up again so I can watch pleasure grace his face as I roll my hips. He likes me on top of him. I think it’s because he puts me on a pedestal. It once made me uncomfortable, but I’m long past that. 

He’s so deep inside me. I ride him slow, mindful of every sensation taking in the man I love.

“You fought for me,” his voice breaks. He lifts himself up to a sitting position and wraps his arms around me. “I need a lifetime of this. I can’t lose you again.”

“You never lost me, Franco. I was always here, and I will always be here, like I know you’ll be there for me, too.”

“Always.”

He cradles my head, hands tangling in my hair, and kisses me. He rolls over me and continues making slow, sweet love. We have all the time in the world now that he’s back, and we intend to take advantage of every moment...

Anna  
______________

“Oh, dear God,” I mumble as I wake. It feels so damn good. Valentin decided to wake me up with his head between my thighs, and his tongue deep inside me. There was no preamble, no soft whispers or gentle caresses. He just dove in.

I know he did this to throw me off guard. You don’t awaken a woman with aggressive oral sex like this unless you want her head spinning. Well, it’s working. 

My legs are spread wide, and his hands are on my backside, lifting me to his mouth. Valentin seems like the kind of man who would study cunnilingus in a book, and would practice and practice until he got it right. 

He achieved that goal. He’s damn good with his tongue...his whole mouth, really. He had me swept away before I was fully conscious. Leave it to Valentin to take advantage of my defenseless state to make his play.

I’m allowing it because it feels so good. I continue to allow it after he’s brings me to climax because that is even better. And I allow it when he crawls over me and thrusts himself inside, because I want that feeling again almost as much as he does.

What I don’t understand is why I’m letting him kiss me like this. He’s a good kisser, yes, but is that really a good enough reason to make myself so vulnerable to THIS man of all people? He’s got my flavor on his tongue, and it feels so damn intimate. His hold is firm and possessive, like he wants to take more of me than I’m willing to give. 

This is such a bad idea, and without the influence of bourbon, it’s getting harder and harder to forget that. Forget Finn, that’s obviously over, but this is a terrible idea apart from him. Probably even worse than the time I planted a stolen jade buddha on Holly to get her arrested when she was married to Robert...

But, damn, this feels good. Valentin is a much better lover than he is a human being...a lesson Nina refuses to learn.

Oh, God. Nina. I completely forgot about Nina.

“Nina,” I say.

He hesitates mid-thrust, “Don’t.”

“We need to stop. Oh, God, we need to stop.” I push him off me, and he rolls over in frustrated defeat. “We can’t do this to Nina.”

“I think it’s already been done. Several times, in fact. Once even by your request.”

“That’s not cute. Are you seriously making jokes about cheating on your fiance?” I cringe. “Oh, God. I’m Hayden.”

“Anna, you’re not Hayden.” Valentin rubs a hand down my arm in consolation. “I pushed you into this...”

I give him a look that stops his excuses for my behavior in their tracks. Then I realize, “I can’t believe I slept with a cheater. I can’t believe I helped you be a Finn.”

“I’m no Finn, Anna.”

“You’re right. You’re worse. You have none of the guilt or remorse to go along with this.”

“Look, we have decades of history and friendship and so much more that Finn and Hayden don’t share.”

His words are having the opposite effect on me as he’s intending. “You’re not going to excuse away what we’ve done!”

“Why do we need excuses? Why can’t we just do this for ourselves? Why do we need to have reasons for this to be ok?”

“Because you made promises to a woman, and I really don’t like the idea of being a party to you breaking them. All the hateful thoughts I’ve had about Hayden, I now have about myself.” The thought nearly makes me vomit. The only thing worse than having a reason to hate someone else is having the same reason to hate yourself.

“Maybe you should show yourself and Hayden a little compassion, and put the blame where it belongs, on the men who made and broke the promises.”

Scorching heat rushes to my face, and I snap, “Oh, I do blame you both, believe me. That doesn’t mean I just get off here with a free pass.”

“Jesus, Anna, no wonder you hold everyone around you to such high standards. The ones you hold yourself to are impossible to live up to.”

I push away from him and scoot off the bed. I’m feeling very naked in front of Valentin, and that’s never a good thing with a Cassadine. I get dressed as quickly as I can, and hunt down my PPK.

“I need a shower.” I find what I need to wash the Valentin off me and head for the door. I look back at him sitting naked on the edge of my bed. “You better be gone by the time I get back.”

Franco  
______________

The third trip back up the hill has me sucking in air and sweating like Jason Morgan trying to make a facial expression. What the hell was I thinking bringing all this shit up here? I already took the mattress and the painting back to the cabin, but there’s still all this crap from the picnic, painting supplies, pillows, and blankets. It’s at least two or three more trips back and forth.

“There’s got to be a better way.”

I’ve got it...I lay the blanket on the ground, and spread it wide. I dump everything in the center in a pile, then I fold the four corners together and tie it up.

“Perfect,” I tell myself with pride. I grab the knot and lift… “Shit, that’s heavy.”

I huff a breath and shake out my arms. “Ok, let’s do this again. Use the legs...lift with the legs.” I lift again, and a vision pops in my mind…

I’m dragging a body into a dog crate...I’m angry, but triumphant...I’m going to hurt him...teach him a lesson..

The memory is gone, and I can’t get it back. I don’t think I want it back...but what the hell was that?

I look at my oversized vagabond bindle laying on the floor. Fear is stopping me from picking it up again. 

A flash of memory shows a girl’s body on the dirty floor. She’s wearing a blindfold...I’m tracing her outline with chalk…

“No!” I shake the memory from my mind. “No, no, no…”

Turning away, I look out at the lake. I’m breathing heavier than I was on the hike up here. I don’t want those memories! It was sick enough having to read that shit online, but to have it in my head...the sights, the sounds, the scent…

The lake is calming when I’m finally able to focus on it. The water is glittering in the morning light. I can almost see Elizabeth jumping off the rocks into the water.

My eyes close, and another memory presses through...I’m on the roof trying to convince someone to jump off…

No! God no! “What the FUCK is wrong with me?!”

I hit myself in the head over and over, trying to get these thoughts away. It’s not working. “Elizabeth...I need Elizabeth…”

I grab the knot and just start dragging the bindle down the hill. The blanket is catching on roots and sticks. It probably won’t survive the trip down the mountain, but I don’t really care. I just need to get to Elizabeth. She’ll know what to do. She’ll know how to settle me down…

But should I go to her? Is that fair to her? Should a man like me be around someone like her? Around her children? No wonder it was so easy for me to step in for Cameron to get Drew’s memories; his life is worth so much more than mine.

Jesus Christ, I just don’t fucking know. 

The blanket is stuck on a root sticking out of the ground. I yank harder, and the bindle is set free. It crashes down, and the sound of breaking glass and ceramic tells me the coffee mugs and wine bottle are done for. 

I keep dragging…

More images fill my head of dragging bodies. Some of them dead. Some of them unconscious.

Jason. Sam.

“No, no, no!” I drop the bindle and take off for the cabin. 

I didn’t expect this. I didn’t want this. I don’t want to know these heinous crimes so intimately. The worst part of all of it is the curiosity, the rush, and the pleasure I felt during each and every one of these memories. 

Acid is invading my mouth with the smell of a rotting corpse. Vomit rises up and stops me in my tracks. I’m desperate for air, but I can’t breathe when I’m throwing up. I cough and sputter and hack, trying to expel the sickness in me, though I know that sickness is something in my head and not in my stomach.

When I finally get myself to stop dry heaving, I set back off to the camp. It feels like forever before I can see our cabin. Elizabeth is there drinking a cup of coffee and looking out at the lake.

My God, she’s a vision. 

I’m soothed immediately by her proximity. 

“Elizabeth,” I say from about twenty feet away.

She turns to my voice. Her smiling eyes losing their joy as she takes in my state.

“Franco?” She sets her coffee down and comes to me, hands on my arms as though trying to steady me. “What’s wrong?”

“I...I remember…” I can’t get out the words. I don’t want to say them. Admitting that I remember what I did might make it more real.

“What? What do you remember?”

Another vision impairs my view of Elizabeth...I’m taking baby Aiden away from the nursery...I’m taking him to Betsy...away from Elizabeth…

“No!” I shake my head as my heart races out of control. Fuck! I did that to her! I did that to this sweet, beautiful, innocent woman!

I pull away, afraid to taint her with what’s happening in my head. 

“Franco? Tell me what’s going on.”

I shake my head. I can’t. I turn and take off in the opposite direction from where I came. I can’t be with her right now. She shouldn’t be near me. I can’t let this sickness in me consume her, too.

I need to get away...

Alexis  
______________

Ouch.

Ow, ow, ow…

I feel like I was in a car wreck, and I, of all people, would know something about being in a car wreck. 

If I stay still, I’m fine. Maybe a little stiff and uncomfortable. But when I move…

Ouch. 

I can barely get my eyes open. I’m laying face down on the bed, and I’m not sure I can turn my head to get fresh air. 

Moving ever so slowly, I’m able to face the empty room. I see Neil cleaned up last night’s sexcapades. The candles are packed away...no ropes, no flogger, no toys...well, no toys except the cuffs still on my wrist. At least they’re soft.

A flutter of pleasurable shivers move down my spine as memories of last night trickle through my mind. My God, that orgasm. That was something more than an orgasm. That was an out of body experience. 

Somehow, the pain isn’t as bothersome anymore.

Where is Neil?

What time is it? Who cares about the time? Should I really care about time when I’m floating in the clouds?

The door opens quietly, and I’m able to lift my lids enough to see Neil coming in with a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Good morning,” he says.

I open my mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a mumbling mess of sound.

He chuckles softly. “I brought Advil and coffee.”

“My hero.”

I take my time to push myself into a sitting position. Neil places the Advil in one hand, and the coffee in the other. I swallow some of both before I hand him the cup, and collapse back onto the bed. 

He sets the cup aside, and I feel him unclasping the cuffs from my wrists.

“How bad does it hurt?” His fingers trail whisper-light over the skin of my back.

“My brain is a little confused about what it means to feel pleasure and pain right now, and your fingers are only muddling it more.”

“That’s not such a terrible thing, is it?”

“No, not so terrible.”

“There aren’t any welts or marks on your skin. Does that mean it’s all muscle aches?”

“I think so.”

I hear a lid snap open from a bottle and a substance being squirted into his palm. He rubs his hands over my back. They’re covered with a lotion or a cream. At first, he just grazes over my skin, moisturizing and lubricating. Then, he starts applying pressure.

“Oh…” It hurts a little, but not too bad, until his hands move to my shoulders...the sorest part of my body. “Ouch.”

He eases up a bit. “Was I too hard to you last night?”

“No. God no. Last night was…perfect. I’m still coming down from that orgasm.”

“Good. No regrets?”

“My current blissful paralysis was worth it, especially since it comes with a back rub.”

His hand moves down and gives my ass a firm squeeze, “Who says I’m sticking to your back?” He gently swats my bottom, eliciting a squeal before returning to my shoulders.

There is a strange mix of pain, pleasure, comfort, and relief at his touch...at his presence.

I peer up at him as best as I can in this position. His face is sweetly content as he rubs into my tender tissue. A realization hits me all the sudden...one that should’ve been obvious this whole time.

“You’re a caretaker, aren’t you? How did I just realize that? You’re a therapist, a lover, a masseuse...you take care of people.”

He hesitates a moment as he considers. “I suppose so. Why does that seem so surprising to you?”

“I’ve never been with someone who wanted to take care of me...not like this.”

“No? Not even one of the nice guys? Ned?”

I shake my head. “No. Ned was like me. A fixer. We called ourselves the gatekeepers...the family protectors and secret keepers. But really, we spent most of our time cleaning up messes.”

“So two fixers weren’t compatible?”

“We were different kinds of fixers. I was focused on fixing other people’s problems.”

“Like Sonny’s?”

“Precisely.”

“Is that why you decided to practice law? To fix other people’s problems?”

“I suppose that played a role...Stefan approved of my career choice, which was a bigger consideration for me than it should’ve been. Stefan indulged my ambition because it was useful to the family.” I laugh, “Funny that the career my family supported me to have, was a catalyst for my independence from them.”

“You chose a career that fostered your independence from others, yet it seems to have made others more dependent on you. Quite a role reversal from childhood.”

“I never thought about it like that. I guess it’s nice for me to be the one in control, rather than relying on someone else.”

“And it must be nice to be wanted...to be needed.”

Especially considering so few people wanted or needed me before I passed the bar.

Neil rubs down the center of my back, eliciting a moan pleasure. “You said you were fixing other people’s problems, while Ned was a different kind of fixer? Was he fixing his own problems?”

I laugh, “In a manner of speaking. Ned never tried to fix my problems...he was always trying to fix me. He tried to fix people.”

“Hmpf.” Neil’s hands stop moving. 

I roll over to assess the interruption. He’s staring at me with a furrowed brow.

“What?” I ask.

“I don’t understand what he could possibly want to fix.”

I laugh, “Are you kidding? Didn’t we just spend the last eight months discussing this? My inability to commit to someone like Ned, and my attraction to the nefarious.”

He’s shaking his head. “There’s nothing about you that needs fixing, Alexis. You’re perfect as you are.”

I can’t help my smile, “You don’t really believe that.”

“Of course, I do. Why would I put myself in a relationship with a woman if I wasn’t happy with who she was?”

The thought takes my breath away.

“You seem surprised,” he says, laying down next to me. His hand grazes over my belly in the most comforting way. “You have to know how I feel about you, what I think of you. I’ve told you a dozen different ways how much I adore you.” 

“Well, yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“That was after sex. Men say a lot of things after sex.”

He traces his hand over my cheek, and looks in my eyes. “I meant every word.”

An uncontrollable laugh escapes my lips. 

“What?” he asks.

“What must be wrong with YOU to want someone like ME?”

He kisses me softly. “The real question is, what would be wrong with me if I didn’t?”

I have to close my eyes, because staring into his eyes while he’s looking at me that way is making me dizzy. “Wow.”

He places a gentle kiss on my temple. I could get used to this caretaking business. And I really think I could get used to being with a man who didn’t need me to fix all his problems for him.

“Do you want me to bring you breakfast?” he asks. “Or would you rather rest a little more?”

“I don’t want to miss your lecture, so I better get up and get it for myself.”

“You’re welcome to come to the lecture, but if you’d rather, I could just tell you what we’re going to talk about.”

I grin, “More private lessons?”

He nods. “But these aren’t as fun as last night, I’m afraid.”

“Listening to you talk is always fun...an aphrodisiac, even.”

“Oh really?” he chuckles.

“Really.”

“Even when I’m talking about how when couples fight, they’re activating the sympathetic nervous system’s ‘Fight or Flight’ response and deactivating their highest potential for problem-solving via the prefrontal cortex?” 

“Mmm. Sexy.”

He gets that mischievous, crooked, little grin on his face, and I know he’s up to something. “See, ‘Fight or Flight’ is a survival mechanism. Let’s say...if a bear broke through the doors into this cabin…”

“...I’m a worrier, and you’re putting that thought in my head?” 

“Don’t worry, I have plenty of whips and canes to fend him off.”

“Ha!” 

“Like I was saying...If a bear came in here right now, you’d have to run from the bear, or fight it off in order to survive. To get your muscles geared up enough to do that, you need energy.”

Neil runs his fingers gently over my lips. “Your mouth starts sucking in more air…” he trails his fingers down to my chest in his delicately sensual way, “...your lungs feel short of breath getting in all that oxygen. Your heart races, pushing the oxygen through your arteries to your muscles.”The way his hand is moving over me, I feel my heart speed, and I suck in a breath. 

His hand moves down, pushing the blanket off my body. His fingers graze back and forth over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh working up my arousal. “The oxygen is used to break down glucose for energy. Your muscles become taut, tense, coiled, restless...ready to spring...” His fingers tease the lips of my sex, sending a shiver down my body. “All that energy, bursting at the seams in your muscles is why you quiver and shake…”

His fingers dip in my pussy, spreading my arousal up to my clit. “Body temperature rises with exertion, and you feel hot and bothered.” I’m hot and bothered, alright. His cool breath on my temple tells me I’m flush as his fingers start working their magic. “Perspiration builds to prevent overheating…” 

He fingers me with more purpose now. Two nights of making love, and he’s learned so much about me. He’s not only a teacher, but an eager student himself.

“Your skin is flush, red, and hypersensitive...aware of every touch.” 

He’s working my clit, up and down, side to side, rolling it around. “Your brain, hyperfocused on the bear, loses focus on all your other problems, and just zeros on the task at hand.” 

He dips three fingers inside me, working me hard and fast. I’m rolling my hips against him, closing in on climax. His fingers are doing all the right things, touching all the right places in all the right ways.

I scream out as I clench his fingers, squeezing them, coating them with my pleasure. I don’t hear any more words, just my own voice, just the air pulling into my lungs. The pleasure is so intense, too much, and yet I need MORE. His hand doesn’t stop, even strained in its movement in my tightened pussy.

“Neil…” 

Finally, as orgasm slows, he pulls his hand away and starts shedding his clothes.

“That was quite a lesson,” I say through ragged breaths.

He’s pulling off his pants as he says, “The moral of the story is that it’s rarely a good idea to try to solve problems in your ‘Fight or Flight’ mode. That part of your brain can’t function when your so...aroused.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” he moves between my legs. “It’s better to wait to figure things out when you’re less angry or afraid, and you’re more calm and rational.”

“Oh,” I moan, as he lines his cock up with my sex, “and here I thought the point was that I’ve always been attracted to the bears rather than running from them like a normal person. Maybe Ned was right about me.”

Neil chuckles darkly as he bends down to kiss me. I wrap my legs around his waist as he says, “There’s nothing about you that needs to be fixed. You just needed to find the right bear.” 

When he shoves inside me, his chest gives off a very bearlike growl. My laugh is cut off by an involuntary moan at his next thrust. 

“Dr. Byrne!” a voice yells from the door. 

Neil pauses his hips after a deep thrust and cringes at the sound of his name. Funny, he doesn’t cringe when I call his name. 

“Maybe if you ignore them, they’ll go away,” I offer, lifting my hips to get him moving in me again. “Surely, you’re allowed some time to yourself. Boundaries and all that.”

Thankfully, he takes the bait, nuzzling my neck and fucking into me again. “Boundaries. Yeah...that’s reasonable.”

A loud rapping intrudes again. “Dr. Byrne!”

He stops. “I better see what the hell is going on.”

He kisses me one more time before pulling out. As he hunts down his clothes, I begin to wonder at the sagacity of seeking mental wellness advice from a man interrupted mid-coitus. I can’t imagine his brain is currently firing on all cylinders. 

I cover myself up before he cracks open the door. 

“Elizabeth? How can I help you?”

“It’s Franco. He’s not well. He just took off like he just saw a bear.”

“I’ll be right there.” Neil closes the door and turns back to me with a look of longing and regret. 

“Our next weekend away is going to be at a hotel with hot water and a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign,” I say.

He smirks, “I’m just relieved you’re considering another weekend with me. I’ll be back soon.” He makes his reluctant exit.

I lay back in exhausted contentment, still in the afterglow of that last orgasm. There’s a quiet knock on the door, and it opens softly.

“Alexis?” Diane’s voice drifts inside. A red head of hair pops through the door. “You decent?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Good,” she giggles. She scurries inside as I sit up in bed and pull the blanket tight around me. “Tell me EVERYTHING.”

“Diane…”

“Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy...or maybe you already did with Neil…”

I throw a pillow at her. 

“The screams coming from this place last night had Max thinking one of the Alcazar brothers found you and was exacting torturous revenge. Max, Anna, and Valentin all came out to make sure no one was being killed.”

“Dear God. You could hear me?”

“Honey, I was singing along with you. What did the good doctor do to you to inspire such a robust soprano?”

I cover my face with my free hand. She’s snooping around and finds Neil’s duffel bag in the corner. “Is this the goodie bag?”

“Diane! Would you stop?”

“I’m going to open it if you don’t tell me.”

“No, you’re not.”

Her full-toothed grin tells me that’s exactly what she’s going to do.

“Ok, fine. It was a flogger.”

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops, “Doc-tor Byrne!”

“Shut up.”

She comes and sits next to me on the bed with a suppressed grin. Her eyes drift to the side table, and she reaches over to pick up the discarded cuffs. A giggle erupts from her lips as she shakes her head in disbelief. “Wow...how did he...um?”

I point up to the wooden beams above us.

“Oh my. Any other...tools?”

I just peer at her through my fingers in shame.

“So, what? He just strung you up to the rafters and nailed you with a flogger until you broke the sound barrier?”

I sigh, deciding to rip off the bandaid and get it over with. “You can say that. He took his time...stimulating me...everywhere. I can’t explain it, Diane, he got me to this place where my body was vibrating, nearly tipping over into orgasm at any moment. No, it was more like I was in a constant state of orgasm, waiting for him to send me thermonuclear.” As I’m talking, I begin feeling a little short of breath and pressure building in my eyes as though tears are about to fall. “He made me hold off as long as I could, and I got to this place where my brain was completely disconnected with the worst parts of itself, and all that was left was a buzzing euphoria that was unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life…”

I close my eyes and tears are suddenly streaming down my face.

“In-fucking-credible,” says Diane, reaching in her pocket for a spare tissue. At what age do women come prepared everywhere they go with tissues? I take it with gratitude.

“He gave me this whole scientific rationale for what was going to happen to me, but there was no way I could have anticipated THAT.”

“I’ve never been more envious in my life…” Her jaw still hasn’t figured out a way to close. “That’s it. Max and I are finding an adult store on the way home. I need a flogger, and cuffs, and…”

“Rope.” 

She laughs out loud, “Rope, indeed. I guess we’ll be stopping at Home Depot, too.”

I snort along with her. My tears keep falling, but I’m uncertain if it’s from laughing too hard, or something else...

“Maybe we could pick up a few extra things while we’re there…” Diane continues, “zip ties, clamps, clothes pins. Hell, if it can make me have an orgasm like that, I’ll just buy a 2x4 and have Max beat me with it.”

I’m almost sobbing now.

“And a goddamn wheelbarrow if I’m going to wake up in the state you’re in.”

I can’t stop crying. It’s definitely not in laughter anymore…

“Alexis, honey, are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” I sob. My anxiety is rising, and a sense of dread is taking over. “No...I’m not ok...but it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. I don’t get it.”

“Are you having some kind of drop?”

“I...don’t even know...what that means,” I sniff.

Diane puts her arms around me, and I’m so distraught, I can’t even be embarrassed about being naked in her arms. 

“It’s ok, honey,” she says. “The costs high ‘highs’ are sometimes low ‘lows.’ Neil just better get his ass back here soon.”

Valentin  
______________

It looks like I’ll have to listen to another ridiculous lecture this morning. I can’t leave to go for a hike because Finn might tell Nina what he saw last night. I need to be here for damage control.

I sip my coffee and stare into the fire I made this morning. I’ve had nothing but time on my hands since Anna kicked me out of her room. Memories of making love to her, fucking her, filter through my mind...so deliciously satisfying.

I never thought Anna would give in...EVER. 

There’s something to be said about persistence and seizing an opportunity. It’s a shame she has to be so cold about it...but damn she was good. So flexible. Better than Alex, even. Although, I must admit I’m much better in bed now than I was when I slept with Alex, so I don’t regret the order in which these dalliances occurred. 

I can’t help my smirk knowing I did it for Anna, too...multiple times.

Who knows, maybe if I’m persistent and ready for another opportunity, it might happen again. It probably won’t be anytime soon, but nothing worthwhile ever came easy.

Speaking of uneasy...I need to figure out how to smooth things over with Nina. If I can talk to her before Finn, I might stand a chance...but it’s hard to be so desperate for Nina after a night with Anna.

“I’d like a word, Valentin.”

To the right of me stands Finn, leaning much of his weight on that silly paddle-crutch. I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even notice him coming.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know what the hell you were thinking last night.” Finn is scowling and breathing heavy through his nostrils. 

“Let me guess, you’re going to admonish me for spending a private evening with the woman you cheated on, then you’re going to warn me to stay away from her with empty threats of violence? And you’re going to inform me that you’ll be telling Nina of what you thought you witnessed? Great. Got it.”

Finn scoffs and cocks his head, “You know, you’ve got some nerve…”

“No, you have some nerve thinking you have any claim to Anna after what you did to her. You cheated on Anna Devane, you fool, and did so with some doe-eyed, failed con artist...though I should hardly use the word ‘artist’ seeing as how she’s been as successful at her illicit endeavors as her incarcerated parents.”

“You took advantage of a woman who was suffering!”

“Suffering because of your behavior! And if anyone took advantage of Anna, it was the man who spouted promises of a lifetime of honesty and fidelity, and then slept with the first woman who showed the slightest bit of interest.”

“You know nothing about my relationship with Anna.”

“What relationship? From what Anna told me, she’s done with you.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take that up with Anna instead of you.”

“Then why the hell are you here?”

The fool looks like he’s trying to figure that out for himself. “I warned you to stay away from her. She doesn’t need your shit with everything else she’s dealing with right now.”

I give a dark chuckle, “Now that’s not what she told me last night when she was screaming that she needed ‘more...more...more!’”

Emanating from Finn’s chest is a deep, rumbling growl as his crutch falls to the ground. His sprained ankle is magically healed as he steps forward so quickly, so surprisingly, I don’t have the wherewithal to react defensively until a hit strikes my jaw from Finn’s left hand. I’m knocked back, chair tipping over, and I land hard on the ground.

I’m on my feet in a moment, as pain is radiating from my jaw up to the center of my head. Finn is shaking off the punch and flexing his hand. I throw a fake jab with my left, and he dodges away, straight into the haymaker I’m swinging with my right. 

Damn! That hurt. Finn’s dazed, and he looks like he might go down if I push him. I consider throwing another while he’s off his guard, but my hand feels like shit, and I don’t want to break anything. Honestly, I’m not accustomed to getting my own hands dirty for something like this. I’m not a fucking Neanderthal. Although, it does feel good knowing Anna’s going to see who the better man is...

Out of nowhere, he rushes me, hitting me in the gut with his shoulder, arms around me, taking me to the ground. As I roll over him for superior position, dirt is flying into my eyes. We scramble for who knows how long on the filthy floor. I’m hit in the ribs and face a few times, and I know I put a hurting on his left eye.

This really isn’t how I intended this morning to go when I woke Anna with my mouth on her…

“What the hell are you boys doing?” a woman yells.

Gravity is stolen from me as I swing at Finn. I’m being lifted like I weigh next to nothing. My hand swings wildly in the air missing it’s target, but, overall, I’m pretty sure I got the better of Finn in this fight.

The arms around me are much bigger than mine. I look over my shoulder and realize Max has intervened. The woman who was yelling is my sister, and she’s bent fussing over Finn as Diane is staring at me with her arms crossed and her lips pursed in disapproval.

Alexis looks a mess, like she haphazardly donned her boyfriend’s clothes and ran out to save her ex from the big, bad Cassadine. I shake off the brute behind me as my sister rises up to her full height, which is about four inches shorter than normal without her heels and lawyer costume on. She’s snarling, “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you attack Finn of all people?”

I scoff, “Of course you’d think I started it.”

“If you didn’t start it, then I’m sure you gave him a damn good reason.”

“You’re already planning his defense before you even ask what happened. You can’t fix what he’s done, Natasha.”

“I don’t need you to defend me, Alexis,” says Finn, who’s stumbling upright. 

Alexis moves to his side to make sure he doesn’t fall back down. Now that the adrenaline from the fight is wearing off, his limpy ankle is back in full force.

“Come here,” says Alexis to Finn, pulling him to a chair in the circle. “Come sit and take some weight off that foot.” 

She turns back to me, and says, “You really need to go.”

I smirk through my disappointment. I’ve been so busy with Nina, I haven’t put much into my relationship with my sister lately. When I took my place at the head of the family, I had a very different picture in my mind of what the position would look like. It’s far more secluded than I ever imagined. Like my brother, Stefan, before me, I understood what an asset Natasha could be if I was able to win over her loyalty.

I didn’t expect her to hold on to her hostility for quite so long.

“Our father would be delighted at how supportive his bastards are of each other,” I say with heavy sarcasm.

“You and I have inverse ideas of how to use our father’s approval as a gage of morality. While you’ll forever try to earn the approval of a dead, psychopathic narcissist, I make it my life’s work to make him roll over in his grave with disappointment.”

“Ah, yes, but your frequent and remarkable failures on that front have him looking up from Tartarus, bursting with pride, Natasha. I’m merely wiping Finn’s blood off my fist from a minor scuffle...Tell me, have you gotten the Bauer boy’s blood stains off your front bumper yet? Or the blood of the eldest Alcazar off your dinner knife?”

“Let’s not measure blood spilled, brother, especially in the same breath you mock me about family loyalty.”

I can see from the hatred in her eyes she’s thinking of Nikolas. I know it’s best to give her space at this point. I’m not discouraged in my long-term goals of bringing her back into the family. A little sibling bickering won’t deter my sister, who has an obvious attraction to hostility, from taking her place by my side in the family empire. However, it’ll take time to wear her down, and now isn’t that time.

“Just make sure your friend tells you all his transgressions before he lays mine at your feet,” I say before I walk away. “I’d hate for you to put him on a pedestal like Anna did. It’s such a long fall, and he’s already got a gimp leg.”

Anna  
______________

I can’t believe what I’ve done. As though sleeping with Valentin wasn’t bad enough, I’ve made myself just like HER. And I slept with a man just like HIM. Worse than HIM, actually.

Nina, constantly balancing on a slack tightrope of reality, doesn’t need this. Even though Valentin is the man who made promises to her, I’m complicit in this terrible injustice. I truly didn’t even think about her. I’d forgotten about her existence. It seems Valentin did, too.

The beauty of the lake is lost on me as I sit on this rock and contemplate the disaster my life has become since leaving to go find Alex. I need to go home and get myself out of this confusing place. I need to ground myself in family...Robin, Emma, Noah, and Robert. 

I should talk to Finn first. He told me the truth about what he’d done with Hayden, and I should tell him, too. He’ll need to get started finding a ride home. I’m sure Alexis will take him.

Clumsy footsteps walk through the trees behind me. It’s probably Finn. No one else on this retreat is so terrible at being outdoors.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know anyone was here.” That voice isn’t Finn’s.

I turn to see Franco behind me. He’s breathing heavy and bending over to rest on his knees. Strange posture for a military man.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “I was just leaving.”

“Don’t go on my account…” he huffs. “I just need to catch my breath, and I’ll find somewhere else.”

“Don’t worry about it. I need to get going.”

I stand up without another glance at the water. There are hundreds more lakes around the world just like it. I start walking away when Franco stops me. “You had your memories messed with, too, didn’t you?”

I look back at him and nod. “That’s right.”

“But you remember your life? You never forgot? You just, all the sudden, had extra memories in your brain?”

“I didn’t find out until much later that some of my memories belong to my sister.”

“I guess that’s something I’ve got going for myself. I know exactly whose memories belong to who. To who? No, it’s whom, isn’t it? Who? Whom. It’s whom.”

I realize, “You’re not talking with an accent.”

He cringes as he nods. “Yeah, I’m getting memories back. It’s started two nights ago.”

“Oh, dear. That can't be easy.”

“Nothing like remembering details of heinous crimes to welcome you back to your old life, including ones I committed against my own family. Can I really go back to my old life now that I’ve spent all these months as Drew? Now that I still remember Drew’s life, which was sooooo different than mine. I mean, the guy’s kind of a clueless twat if you ask me. He’s full of himself, so condescending, nothing like Andy or the Drew I knew before. No, come to think of it, he’s a little like Drew when he was Jason. But he had a firm sense of morality that clearly doesn’t integrate with my history without a paralyzing degree of dissonance...”

Dear God, does he have to say every thought that goes through his brain? 

“...and everything is just really mixed up and confusing right now.” Deflated, he plops down on a fallen log in a sweet, childlike manner. 

“I’m sure it is. I know the feeling.”

“Is that how it was for you when you got your sisters memories? Trying to integrate different parts of yourself that didn’t fit?”

“I never really thought about it like that. I suppose that’s true. I guess I've just accepted I’ll never truly know whose memories belong to whom, since I can’t trust Alex to tell me the truth. But that’s not what I meant when I said I know the feeling.”

“Don’t tell me you have a third sister’s memories?”

I laugh, “God, I hope not. No, what I meant was that after a traumatic brain injury a number of years ago, I started having seizures and lost all my memories. You would think that I would’ve been overjoyed to remember my life and my family, but it was one of the most challenging experiences I’ve ever had. Everything was mixed up, memories would pop into my head out of context, and I would try to find a way to fit them together with what I knew of myself. Time was out of order; I didn’t know what I did when, and I had memories of monumental moments without memory of a resolution of those moments, without memories of the aftermath. I just had glimpses of faces and experiences, some lovely and powerful, others treacherous and painful.”

He scoffs, “Like killing people? Manipulating them? Betraying them?”

My heart sinks. This conversation was the last one I expected to have today. “Exactly that.” 

“Oh.” He seems so surprised. I always forget how little the people of Port Charles know about me, save a small handful. And even then, Robert is really the only person who knows everything. 

God, I’m missing him right now. 

“How did you handle it?” he asks. 

“Poorly.”

He looks doubtful. 

“No, really, I neglected my family, pushed people away. I just felt so much pressure and, on some levels, shame. It was excruciating to face head on. Unfortunately, all that avoidance did was make everything worse for myself and the people I loved.”

“Is that advice I hear? That I shouldn’t neglect my family or push them away while I’m figuring things out?”

“I wouldn’t dream of giving you advice, Franco. I don’t have to live your life. I’m just telling you what didn’t work for me.”

He hangs his head and runs his fingers through his hair. I know self-hatred when I see it...especially when I’m feeling it so acutely myself.

“Elizabeth and the boys are suffering without you.”

“I know. But does that come close to the suffering they might have with me in their lives?”

“Don’t make their choices for them. Have faith in your wife. Let her make the decisions here. She’s the only one in your relationship who hasn’t had her brain messed with.”

He looks up at me with the most sincere expression of admiration I’ve ever seen him wear, “Elizabeth is the only thing in the world I have any faith in.”

“Good. Keep hold of that when you remember the worst of yourself.”

He throws his head back and cringes, as though unpleasant memories are racing through his brain. A sigh escapes his lips before he looks back to me. 

“So,” he says, “what were you doing out here away from the latest couples meeting? More of that avoidance you’re so susceptible to, yet hypocritically advised me not to do?”

I cringe. That’s exactly what I was doing. “Shut up, Franco.”

He smirks, knowing he’s right. I turn to walk back to camp.

“Seriously, Anna, don’t leave on my account.”

“I’m not. I’m leaving on mine.” I need to face this head on.

Alexis  
______________

“I think I have some Advil in my purse. Do you want me to get it for you?” I ask.

“No, I just need to deal with it. Trying to ease my pain is rarely a good decision for me. Besides, an NSAID won’t fix the real source of my suffering.”

“What’s going on, Finn?” I’ve never seen my friend look so terrible. He’s covered in dirt and blood, and he can hardly walk without grunting in pain. 

Finn looks at me with narrowed eyes, “Alexis, have you been crying?”

I wipe my eyes, as though that might get rid of the redness and blotchiness on my face. “Oh no. We’re not talking about me right now. You first.”

“Alexis…”

“You first!”

He sighs deep and hangs his head.

“Come on, Finn.”

He starts doing that thing he does in AA when he has a million thoughts running through his mind, but can’t bring himself to say any of them. His eyes are shifting back and forth, and he’s sighs with an ironic laugh. 

I place a hand on his, and I force him to make eye contact, reminding him that he’s been my safe place before, and that I can be the same for him. His restless energy ceases, and pained defeat crushes his spirit. 

“I slept with Hayden.”

“Oh, no.” I chide myself internally for my uninhibited judgmental response. “I’m guessing Anna found out?”

“I told her. I couldn’t live with the guilt.”

“So you came to this retreat to try to work things out?”

He nods. 

“But she’s angry,” I say, remembering her severe looks and comments in the group yesterday. 

“I can handle her anger, it’s the hurt I put in her eyes that kills me.”

“I’d imagine it’s the same for her. Feeling mad is easier than feeling vulnerable.”

He nods, “Well, in her vengeance, she slept with your brother last night.”

“No! Valentin?” My stomach rolls.

“I mean, it’s really quite a statement for her to make, that she’d rather sleep with the man who turned Peter over to Faison rather than be with me.”

“Valentin did what?”

He waves me off not wanting to explain.

“I’m sorry on behalf of my twisted family.”

Finn drops his face to his hands.

“Can I ask why you slept with Hayden? I thought you wanted a life with Anna?”

“I do. I did. I just…” He lifts his head to look at me with pleading eyes, like he’s looking for forgiveness. “She was gone so long. I was angry and neglected, then Hayden shows up telling me all the things I needed to hear when she left the first time. Maybe I was craving intimacy, and she caught me in a vulnerable moment. I don’t know what came over me, Alexis. This is just so unlike me.”

I hold in my sarcastic laugh for the sake of not my hurting friend, but my lack of response to his assertion has him asking, “You disagree?”

This is one of those horrible moments in life where you have to decide whether or not to tell your friend the truth and make them feel terrible about themselves, or just try to make them feel better, being complicit in their denial. 

My silence is telling…

“You disagree,” he confirms. His face cringes as he catches on. “I left you stranded at the nurses ball for Anna.”

“You were supposed to be giving me my award. Instead, you were telling another woman how much you loved her.”

“Wow...I’m a real asshole, aren’t I?”

“Not an asshole. You’re generally a good man, but you’ve made some asshole decisions. You get caught up in whatever woman is in front of you at the time. You don’t think about how your behavior is affecting the one out of your line of sight. It’s a trait of addiction, Finn.”

“Jesus, Alexis, it was a lot easier to think this was a mistake...a one time thing.”

I shrug, “Ignorance is bliss until it’s not.”

He’s got his face buried in his hands again, and he’s sniffing. I pat his back to let him know what he did to me last year is forgiven, even if it’s not forgotten. 

“Are you tempted to use?” I ask.

He chuckles, “Every day since I left Hayden’s bed.”

“Are you going to use today?”

He shakes his head. “Not unless I find poppy flowers by the lake. Besides, using isn’t going to help me keep my loved ones in the forefront of my mind even when they’re not around.”

“You know, you should really consider seeing a therapist.”

He smirks, “No thanks, I know you scored big in the therapist department, but I’m going to try to work things out with Anna before I try my hand at dating again.”

I restrain myself from hitting him in his current injured state. “Charming. At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor. In all seriousness, Finn, it’s great that you’re solid in your recovery, but we all have deeper issues driving our addictions. Addiction is a symptom of bigger problems.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“That’s always a beautiful thing to tell a woman. Are you going to be ok?”

He shrugs, “I have no idea.”

“So, you’re like the rest of us then, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He leans forward and looks at me with serious eyes. “Now, tell me, what’s wrong with you?”

“You don’t want to know.” I can feel my body shrinking away.

“Of course, I do.”

“You don’t. Trust me.”

“Alexis…”

“It’s a sex thing,” I spit out.

He cringes, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re right, I don’t want to know.”

It’s weird talking sex with man I’ve slept with. I look away, trying to find an escape for the awkwardness.

“I mean...Neil’s treating you ok, right?”

“Yes,” I say a little emphatically. “I mean, yes. Yes, he is. Don’t worry, I’ve already talked to Diane. You’re off the hook.”

“Thank God.”

“Besides,” I say as I see Anna approaching camp, “I think there’s someone else you probably should be talking to right now.”

Finn follows my line of sight, and I hear his breath catch in his throat. My poor, dear friend...this can’t end well for him.

Anna  
______________

“I’m leaving,” I say. My arms are crossed in front of me, and I’m standing awkwardly on the far side of the cabin. I chose not to sit, because I don’t want to drag this out. We both need to move on.

Finn’s head is hanging as he leans back against the door. He doesn’t look at me as he says in defeat, “I can’t say I’m surprised. Aside from showing up here, you haven’t tried to fix things between us, at all.”

“Don’t put this on me.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying I’m not surprised.”

He’s not even putting up a fight. Maybe this is what he really wanted all along. “Are you going to try to make things work with Hayden?”

He gives that mirthless laugh of his and looks up at me. He has dark, puffy circles under his eyes and looks terrible. He must not be sleeping. “I’m not thinking about Hayden right now. I don’t want to be with Hayden.”

“You seem uncharacteristically accepting of my decision.”

“Is there anything I can do at this point to change your mind?” He doesn’t even look hopeful.

“No, I suppose not.” I look away as I consider telling him the whole truth. Is it necessary? It would hurt him, I’m sure. Am I being petty by throwing one last parting shot? Or am I giving him the same courtesy he gave me, and putting all my cards out on the table? I suppose it’s only fair. Maybe it will help him move on quicker if he’s angry with me. “I slept with Valentin last night.”

He very obviously cringes, but he doesn’t seem surprised. 

“You knew?”

He nods. 

And then I see it...the dirt on his clothes, the cut on his lip. Those aren’t dark, puffy circles under his eyes...they’re bruises. “Valentin told you.”

He shakes his head. “I came out last night when I heard a scream. I saw the two of you together.”

I flush a deep shade of red, not from embarrassment, but shame. If I would’ve seen him with Hayden, one of them might not have survived the encounter.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Of course, I am. I got drunk and stupid. It’s not something I intended to do, and it’s not something I ever plan on doing again.”

“Do you feel better? We’re even now.”

“Feel better?” Anger flares in my gut. “Feel better? You think I slept with Valentin to get back at you? To even the score?”

“Well, didn’t you? The bastard took Peter from his adopted family and dropped him on Faison’s doorstep. You hate that man. There’s no way you would’ve slept with him unless you were using him.”

“I was drunk and stupid. I made a mistake.”

He laughs, “Oh, so when you do it, sleeping with someone else is a ‘mistake,’ but when I do it, I’m intentionally sabotaging our relationship?”

“I broke up with you when you slept with Hayden. What I did with Valentin was stupid, but it wasn’t a betrayal. When you broke your promises to me, I told you it was over. I didn’t make any new promises to you.”

“Oh, Anna, your playing with semantics now.”

I take a step toward him and bring my voice down low. “Then let me be clear, Finn. We’re done. It’s over. I’m going home, and you need to find your own ride back to Port Charles.”

“No, we’re not done.” His voice is firm. “I hurt you. You hurt me. It not ideal, but we’re on more even ground, and we can work through this.”

I roll my eyes. “Even ground?” He’s out of his mind. “No, Finn, we’re not on even ground, and if we were, piling on infidelities doesn’t give us a better chance of working through this, it only makes things harder!”

He steps in close and grabs my face in his hands, “I don’t care how hard it is! I just want you! I just want you.”

“No.” I shake me head. Try as I might to maintain my anger at him, it’s almost impossible to remain so hard when I’m putty in his hands.

“I want you, Anna. I want the life we dreamed of having together.”

“‘The life we dreamed of having?’” Tears are filling my eyes and falling down my cheeks. “I dreamed of coming home to the man I love and marrying him...not finding out he slept with his ex. You ruined that dream for me.”

“And I never thought I’d see you like that in Valentin’s arms,” his hands involuntarily squeeze my face a little harder at his words, “but that’s my reality now. You’re still worth it, Anna. WE are still worth it.”

I shake my head, but it doesn’t feel like it has the same resolve I felt only moments before. Finn must sense it, too, because his eyes are showing life and hope, and he’s looking at my lips like he’s planning on kissing them.

I shouldn’t let him kiss me…

But he does kiss me, and I don’t fight it. And, damn it, it’s nice. I like it. 

I didn’t like Valentin’s kisses. They felt good, and I wanted them, but I wouldn’t say I liked it. There was just too much self-loathing laced with each jolt of pleasure.

When Finn kisses me, I don’t hate myself...and I hate him a little less, too.

His lips are soft over mine. He’s gentle on my bottom lip, like he’s testing the water. Part of me wants to push him away and scream at him that he lost the right to kiss me like this. The other part of me wants to pull him close and drown out all the painful memories of the last couple weeks.

Instead, I hold still, and let him kiss me. His tongue licks between my lips, and dear god, it’s tempting. It’s soft and warm and loving, and even though I know it’s falsely comforting, I’m getting pulled it.

His hands wrap around my body, one in my hair, the other on my back, pulling me in tight. I hadn’t realized I already had my arms around his neck. This position is so easy for us...so natural. This is what I wanted from him while I was gone so long. This is what I dreamed of coming home to.

But I’m not drunk anymore this morning, and I know that this won’t change my mind. I can’t trust the man in my arms, the man kissing me with so much love. And even if I could trust him in the future, I can’t respect him...not like I once did…

I pull myself away, and he groans at the loss.

“No,” I say, trying to avoid his eyes. “No. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done.”

“Anna...please…” He reaches for me, and I push his hands away.

This time, I look him dead in the eyes and say with all the conviction I possess, “Please go. It’s over, Finn. We’re done.”

Disappointment colors his eyes, and I know he gets it. I can’t move forward with him. Deflated in his defeat, he gives a weak nod. At some point, his feet turn and head for the door. 

He turns the knob, and just before he steps out, he says, “Goodbye, Anna.”

“Goodbye, Finn.”

He walks out the door.

Neil  
______________

I have to do my best not to run back to the cabin. Bringing Alexis to this working weekend was both one of the best and one of the dumbest decisions of my life. 

I jog up to the door and take a moment to catch my breath. I want to open the door slowly so I don’t scare her or seem overeager to pick up where we left off. She’s right where I left her, except now she’s dressed in my t-shirt and sweats, and she’s laying on the blankets. Her head turns to me, and even though she’s smiling softly, I can see the redness in her eyes, and the moisture on her cheeks.

“Alexis…” I hurry in, “are you ok?” I am her side in a quick stride, my hands on her cheeks wiping away the tears.

“I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look fine.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t seem to stop crying.”

“Did something happen?”

She shakes her head and looks bewildered, “No. After you left, Diane came in, and we were having a pleasant conversation, and I’ve hardly been able to turn off the tears since. I held it together long enough to separate Finn and Valentin, but as soon as I was alone again, they just keep falling.”

“Separate Finn and Valentin?”

She cringes, “They were fighting over Anna.”

But Nina? I shake my head and set my questions aside. They’re not as important as the woman in front of me.

I kick off my shoes and crawl into bed. She curls into my body so naturally. “So, these tears…” I say, wiping them gently from her cheeks, “are they randomly falling, or are they accompanied by a drop in mood, too?”

She bites her bottom lip and looks away. I’ve seen that look in therapy with her. She doesn’t want to fess up to something…

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” I turn her jaw toward me so she can’t look away. She searches my face, and I try to give whatever reassurances she needs with my expression. 

“I don’t know how to explain it. I feel despair and fear and sadness and dread. I know it’s irrational. There’s no reason to feel like this, I’m happy. I know I’m happy. I can feel the happiness, but I can’t stop the tears, and I can’t stop the fear.”

My heart sinks...she’s dropped...and I wasn’t here. “Oh, Alexis, I’m so sorry. Damn it, I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I shouldn’t have left.” I squeeze her close and kiss her temple.

“You’re working,” she excuses me, “and I wasn’t feeling like this when you left, so how could you know?”

“I should’ve anticipated. I should’ve been more diligent.”

“How could you possibly anticipate me being neurotic like this?”

“Sweetheart, you’re not being neurotic, you’re having a drop. If someone is going to have a drop, it usually right after intense, kinky sex, but they can occur up to days after, or following additional sexual encounters.”

“I’m guessing a drop is some kind of withdrawal? A chemical thing?”

I nod. “You were on a high. Coming down from that can be intense...all the more so if I’m not here with you.”

She nuzzles into my neck. I’m kicking myself for not being here. I stroke her hair as I ask. 

“Are you feeling ok about what we did? No confusion or shame or anything like that?”

She laughs, “No. I’m a pretty open-minded, sex-positive person. I don’t have Catholic guilt or anything like that to work through.”

“That’s true, but you have a fierce superego and a prosocial connection to societal expectations.”

She peeks up from my neck and smirks at me. “You’re therapisting me.”

I stroke her cheek. “Sorry, I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“My superego is happily sedated and playing nicely with my id, thank you. I’m sure it’s just a chemical drop, like you said.”

“Maybe it’s more than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, Alexis, maybe for the first time since you were a child, you’re giving up some control. You were very dependent on me last night seeing as how you didn’t have the use of your arms. Maybe all this fear and dread you’re having is that I’ve put you in an incredibly vulnerable situation, and you don’t trust that I’ll be there for you. Then, when I left to help Elizabeth...you dropped, and all your fears were confirmed.”

She scrunches up her face as though I’m hitting a nerve.

Another thought occurs to me. “Then again, maybe I pushed you too far too fast. I know your history of violence in your childhood and with your ex  
husband. Maybe bringing it into the bedroom wasn’t the right thing to do.”

“No,” she snaps quickly. “No. I really loved what we did last night, and I certainly don’t think Julian or Helena had anything to do with me being so tearful this morning. That wasn’t violence...it didn’t hurt, and I was never scared. I think you were closer with the first interpretation.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I am terrified of giving up control, and last night I was completely helpless. Trusting isn’t easy for me in relationships, and this is the first time in years that I’ve truly opened myself up to something new. I’m terrified to trust again, but I know that if someone is worth trusting, Neil...it’s you.”

“You mean that? You trust me?”

“I do. But it doesn’t make the leap of faith any less terrifying.”

A thought makes me smile…

“What?” she asks.

“It’s nothing.” I stroke her hair again. It’s so soft and beautiful, and when I touch it, it releases more of her intoxicating scent.

“Tell me.”

“Really, it’s nothing.” 

The look she gives me tells me that I better start talking.

“Ok, fine. It’s just that a drop is more common for couples in attached, loving, and committed relationships, rather than with people who are having casual sex. Between what you’re saying about trusting me, and the nature of the drop you’re having, I couldn’t help but feel a little narcissistic satisfaction that this could be an indication of the significance of your feelings for me. There might be some promising attachment there.”

She laughs, “Attachment?”

I shrug, a little embarrassed. “Maybe I misinterpreted. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything...”

“Neil,” she interrupts, “I feel a lot more than an ‘attachment’ to you.”

My smile returns, “You do?”

She nods.

“How do you feel about me, Alexis?”

A tear falls down her cheek as she says, “I’m falling for you. I know it’s a little soon, but I can’t help myself. I’ve never really been half-hearted in anything I do.”

I trace her soft skin over her cheekbones. I feel so gluttonous getting to touch her as much as I want. “Your passion one of the things I love about you.”

“One of the things you LOVE about me?”

I nod. “One of the myriad things I LOVE about you...I’ve fallen in love with you, Alexis Davis.”

“Neil…” There’s a look in her eyes...one I’ll remember for the rest of my life. They’re wide and round, moisture gleaming in the natural light falling through the curtains, highlighting her dark irises. A dreamy filter has them looking so vulnerable, yet so hopeful. “I love you, too.”

I’m certain my eyes look exactly the same.

Elizabeth  
______________

Franco is waiting for me when I get back to camp with Dr. Byrne. Dr. Byrne seems like he’s itching to get back to his cabin, and I wonder if I interrupted something between him and Alexis. As I look at my husband waiting for me by the campfire, I don’t care what I interrupted. I needed to figure out what I could do to help Franco, and I think I’ve got it figured out. 

“Hi,” says Franco. He looks a little ashamed of himself.

“Hi.”

He holds out a hand...an apologetic invitation. “Walk with me?”

My hand goes straight to his, no hesitation. I’d walk with him anywhere. Our fingers intertwine like they’ve done a thousand times before. He leads me in the direction of our little spot on the rocks, and I wonder if that’s intentional, or if that’s our safe place we’re naturally drawn to. 

“I’m sorry for running,” he says abashedly. He looks for my reaction.

“No need to apologize. It must be difficult for you, remembering everything you’ve been through throughout your life.”

“Remembering everything I’ve done, you mean?”

She nods. 

“I couldn’t face you when I remembered what I did to Aiden.”

My heart strains at the memory of the pain of losing my son. I force myself to be objective for my husband’s sake. “Your reaction is just one of the things that shows me how much you’ve changed since then, how much that tumor affected your morality and judgment. You’re a different man, now.”

He nods, “Yeah, that’s taking a little time to figure out. See, I’m remembering what I did, but I don’t always remember when or how or why I did it. I can’t remember if it was before or after the tumor. I can’t remember if the people deserved it, or if I was ruthlessly torturing innocents. It freaked me out a little.”

“You don’t seem so freaked out now.”

“Someone reminded me I should pull myself together for my family’s sake. That you’re the one who should be leading the way through this mess, rather than the guy with the brain tumor and a memory wipe.” He chuckles at himself.

I can’t help but smile at his laughter. “I missed your humor.”

He squeezes my hand as we walk on. 

“Can I ask who you talked to that gave you such sage advice to listen to your wife?”

“Anna Devane.”

“Anna? Really? I’ll have to thank her later.” Franco helps me over a fallen tree in the path. I love how gentle he is with his big, strong arms. So kind. So caring. I don’t get how he could possibly think there might be an evil bone in his body. “You know, I had a talk with someone, too, while you were with Anna.”

“Uh oh. I don’t think I have a whole lot of fans up here.”

“It was Dr. Byrne.” 

He lets out a sigh of relief. “What did he have to say?”

“He said we should stick to what works for us, to what’s familiar.”

“And what’s that?”

I stop walking and turn to face him. I grab his face in my hands and pull him in for a kiss. Franco’s body naturally curves around me like he’s wont to do. 

“Remind me to thank the good doctor for his advice,” he says.

“Do you remember how we first got involved?”

He squints his eyes as though trying to look into his memories. Shaking his head, he says, “I just remember wanting you...wanting you really, really bad.”

“You were there for me when I was the town pariah. You were there for me when the truth came out that I lied about knowing Jason’s identity.”

“I heard about that, but I don’t remember it.”

I run my fingers through his hair, so happy to be in the arms of my husband where I can talk about my worst deeds, and he still looks at me with nothing but acceptance and love. “No matter what anyone said about me, no matter the worst I thought of myself, you were kind to me, unconditionally supportive, and loving in your own crazy way. You were there for my son, for Jake. You…”

He closes his eyes and says, “A puppy. I remember a puppy.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Yeah, you tried giving him a puppy. Jason, I mean, Drew was so angry with you.” 

Franco laughs as though he’s remembering Drew’s anger...then his face falls. His eyes fill with moisture, and his breath catches in his throat. “He’s gone. Drew’s gone...because of me.”

I shake my head, “No, not because of you. You can’t own what happened to him.”

He’s clutching at my shirt and taking shuddering breaths. I feel that panic radiating off him that I felt when he ran away earlier. I think it must be self-loathing that he’s running from.

I wrap my arms around him and I pull him close. “You were there for me when everyone else turned their backs on me. You were there for me when I hated myself. Dr. Byrne said go with what’s familiar, and that’s what’s familiar to us, Franco. We’re there for each other when everyone else loses faith. We’re there for each other when we hate ourselves. Let me love you through this like you’ve loved me. Don’t run away from me again.”

His eyes meet mine imploringly, “How can you love me after everything I’ve done? I don’t deserve the kind of love you give me.”

“Love is a gift, Franco. Accept it with grace. You don’t have to earn my love with great deeds, but even if you did, you’ve more than surpassed a lifetime of quotas. You saved our son. You saved me from Tom Baker. You risked your life to catch Ryan Chamberlain. And you’ve loved me more than any man ever has.”

“I do, Elizabeth. I love you so much.” His forehead drops to mine, and his arms surround me. “I don’t remember much, but that’s the one thing in my head I can count on.”

“So, let me love you back.” I cup his cheek and caress his face. “Let me love you like you love me.”

He leans into my touch, as though it’s a salve for all his pain. I lift on my toes to kiss him, and if my hands alleviate his pain, then my lips are the source of his pleasure. His arms feel like they’re wrapped around me two times over as my tongue touches his.

“I can’t wait to take you home and make love to you in our bed,” I say. “I can’t wait to get ready for work with you in the mornings. I can’t wait to come home and have a glass of wine after the kids are in bed.”

He kisses me softly on the tip of my nose before he says, “I’d really like that. And I want to see the boys...I want to let them know I remember them. I want Aiden to teach me how to bake something new. I want to see what Jake’s drawn since I’ve been gone. And...and I want to thank Cam for being there for you when I wasn’t.”

“Do you have memories of the boys, now?”

He nods, “Some. And I’m sure more will come when I’m surrounded by them.”

I laugh, “I don’t know if you remember, but we may not be able to make it to our bed very often once the boys are around.”

He laughs, “For some reason, I do remember that.”

“Are you sure you’re ready to go home?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You make me sure of everything.”

“Great. Then, let’s just go. Let’s forget the rest of this retreat and just go home.”

I start pulling him back toward camp so we can pack up and leave, but he holds firm. 

“What’s wrong?”

He cringes. “I left a mess of stuff all over the mountain from our camp last night. I better go clean it up.”

“Oh, I’ll come with you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have to do that.”

“Franco,” I hold his face in my hands and tell him, “we’re married, now. We clean up each other’s messes together...for better or worse.”

He smiles, “I like the sound of that.”


	5. Unearth Shared Values and Purpose

Unearth Shared Values & Purpose

________________________________________

Anna  
______________

It’s good to be home. I had a lovely telephone conversation with Robin on the way back, and spoke with Emma and Noah. Although I can’t say I feel all that much better, at least I don’t feel worse after what I did this weekend...I guess I should take that as a win given how prone to self-criticism I can be. 

The first thing I do is go upstairs to take a nice long bath. Soaking away both the grime from the wilderness and the depressive cloud hanging over my head feels like a luxury after a weekend of bartering copper and nickel for hot water. 

Unfortunately, I don’t really feel all that rejuvenated when it’s done. I should know better after everything I’ve been through in life, that you can’t wash away your misdeeds. 

And there are too many reminders of Finn in my home to not feel some degree of misery.

The doorbell chimes as I’m fresh out of the tub. I have no idea who it could be since no one expects me home until tomorrow. I don my robe and head downstairs.

The doorbell rings again just as I’m pulling open the door. I didn’t think smiling was possible in my current state, but I can’t help myself as I see who’s waiting on the other side.

“Robert, what are you doing here?”

He’s looks down at a grocery bag in his hand, and then looks back up to me. “Robin called. She told me you broke it off with Finn. I thought you might need a pick me up.”

Of course she did. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, though I’m pleased he’s here. I stand back and let him in. 

He gives me a firm kiss hello before walking into my living room and making himself at home as he does. 

“What have you got in there?” I peer into the bag. 

He smiles softly and says, “A cure for an aching heart.”

I reach in and find a bottle of rum, and various juices and liquors. “Mai Tais?”

He runs his fingers across my cheek and winks in confirmation. Memories flutter thought my mind of a conversation we had so long ago about the inevitability of ending our days together, old and grey, sipping mai tais on the beach.

“But I’m still not grey, and I don’t see a beach anywhere,” I say.

“Oh, Annie, you’re a damn good spy, but I know all your tricks.” He lifts a lock of my hair and though searching for gray at my roots.

I grab his hand and pull it to my lap. “You do, don’t you, Scorpio? You know me better than anyone.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

I can’t help the warmth that spreads through me when Robert smiles with his mischievous eyes. 

I start pulling everything out of the grocery bag. The last thing in the bag is a little, white tin with gold and turquoise accents. I know exactly what’s inside before I pull it out.

“Harney and Sons Earl Grey Supreme!” I open the tin and inhale the tea. The bergamot goes straight to my salivary glands. 

“Would you rather tea or cocktails?” he asks.

Though the tea is tempting, I point to the rum. “I could use a little of this elixir now, and perhaps the other healing serum in the morning.”

Robert caresses the line of my jaw before standing and going to the kitchen to fetch glasses and ice. He’s a regular mixologist as he pours mai tais for two. He hands me a glass and sits next to me with his arm around my shoulders. I sink into him, my best friend, my partner, the father of my child.

It occurs to me that I’m still in a bathrobe. Robert has never made this level of intimacy awkward for us whether friends or lovers, and I have no desire to change into something more “appropriate.” There’s no need.

“How you doin, luv?” he asks. “And be honest.”

“Fine, considering.”

“Considering what? That your weak-spined ex fiance slept with his ex?”

I sniff in annoyance. “Yes…” 

He looks down at me. “And why do I think there’s more to that ‘Yes’ than the word?”

I consider evading the question, but I don’t consider it for long. Robert and I carry a lot of secrets, but none from each other. “Finn saw me with Valentin last night.”

Robert stills as his mind registers what I just said. It’s a credit to our friendship that he doesn’t push me away, but I can hear the disgust in his voice, “Valentin Cassadine? Really, Anna.”

“I was drunk. Not an excuse, I know, but it’s never happening again, for what it’s worth.”

“I should hope it doesn’t happen again.” Robert takes a healthy drink from his mai tai, obviously deep in thought. Suddenly, he chuckles. “Finn saw, did he?”

I smack him gently for his schadenfreude, but I’m not without a little passive aggression toward Finn myself, so my backhand lacks conviction.

We sit together quietly drinking our cocktails. I’m more and more relaxed the lower the liquid drops in the glass.

“You’re done messing around with all these men who are beneath you, now, aren’t you?” he asks.

The way he values me is so absolute. The best part is that the man who values me most in the world is the one who knows me best.

“Yes, Robert. I’m done.”

“Good. They were only worth your time so long as it put a smile on your face.”

Robert’s the one putting a smile on my face now. “Do you want to know Finn and Valentin’s biggest complaint about me?”

“This ought to be good. What could they possibly have to complain about?”

I look in his eyes to watch his reaction when I say, “They were frustrated that they’d never live up to the great Robert Scorpio.”

Robert’s mouth curves into a self-satisfied smile.

“They were right,” I say, more vulnerable than I intend.

The cockiness leaves his grin, and it’s replaced by an adoring tilt in his lips and a sparkle in his eyes. He chuckles softly and kisses my forehead before pulling me back into the crook of his arm. He tips back his drink, swallows quietly, then gives an audible sigh.

“I love you, Anna.” He squeezes my shoulder.

“I know. I love you, too, Robert.”

And just as it’s always been with us, I’ve never felt more at home.

Elizabeth  
______________

“Are you ready?” I ask, as we stand at our front door. The boys voices drift through the open window to our left. Jake and Cam are fighting over the remote, and Hayden is trying fruitlessly to reason with them. 

Franco’s nervous smile is adorable, but I can see past it to the excitement in his eyes. “As I’ll ever be.”

I kiss him softly in reassurance. His body visibly relaxes at my touch.

I let him open the door when he’s ready. He only hesitates a moment before turning the knob. 

The fight over the remote stops immediately as 4 sets of eyes turn in our direction. 

“Hi,” says Hayden in shock. “You’re home early.”

“How...how did it go?” says Cameron.

I look to Franco, and he’s uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Moisture is filling his eyes as they drift from face to face in the room.

“It was nice,” I say. “Eventful.”

“Nice?” says Cam, still staring at Franco. Hope and fear push back and forth for control over his eyes.

“Yeah,” says Franco, a tentative smile graces his face. “It was really nice. Thank you for sending us.”

“Did, um...did anything happen?”

Franco nods. “Yeah, Cam. A lot happened.” Franco reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. 

My eldest son is breathing heavy as his mind tries to process the scene before him. “You’re holding hands. Does that mean you’re trying to make it work...or does that mean you...you remember?”

I can’t help the grin plastered on my face, so big it nearly hurts. My boys are so focused on Franco, that if they turned their heads toward me, they’d get immediate confirmation of Franco’s return. As the boys wait for Franco to respond, my sister’s eyes meet mine, and a smile to mirror my own is spreading across her cheeks. 

“I remember, Cam,” says Franco. “Not everything...not yet. But I remember who I am. And I remember how much I love this family. My family.”

“Franco?” Jake says. His eyes are lit up like Christmas. “You remember us?”

“Yeah, I remember you.”

Jake launches himself at Franco, bypassing me and wrapping his arms around the missing piece of our lives. Franco is slower to return the hug, as though he’s savoring the moment and the feelings are too overwhelming to move that fast. When his arms wrap around Jake, he holds him so tight I worry my son can’t breathe, but by the grip Jake has on Franco, maybe I’m worried about the wrong guy. 

It’s not surprising that Jake is the first to welcome him back...Jake was the first us to understand how special Franco is, after all. Aiden comes bounding over waiting for his turn. Unable to let Jake go, Franco pulls Aiden into the hug along with them. 

I don’t know if my heart has ever been so full. I feel a pair of arms wrap around me from behind. The dainty limbs are obviously Hayden’s. Her chin rests on my shoulder, and I fold my hands over her arms across my belly. She whispers in my ear, “How are you holding up?”

“Really good. My family’s back together, just like I’d hoped.”

“I’m happy for you.”

I squeeze her arms in gratitude.

Aiden and Jake are talking over each other, filling Franco in on all the art and baking they’ve done while he was gone. They’re pulling him in different directions to come see. 

“Give him a minute to get adjusted to being home,” I laugh.

“Ok, I’ll go get my sketchpad!” says Jake. He barrels away to his room upstairs. 

“I’ll bring you a blueberry-lemon muffin I made with Aunt Hayden yesterday,” says Aiden, running to the kitchen.

Franco stands up grinning with tears in his eyes. He looks to me and wipes a tear from my own cheek. I hadn’t realized I was crying.

“You’re back,” says Cameron, still frozen across the room. Tears are falling down his cheeks, too. “You promised you’d come back...and you did.”

Franco nods gently. 

“No one’s ever come back before…”

My heart aches for my son who’s lost too many fathers.

“You’re my family, Cameron. I’ll always come back for you.”

A sobs lets loose from my son’s throat, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should’ve never gone to Shiloh. If I would’ve just…”

“No, Cam. Don’t do that. You did nothing wrong.”

“You saved me.”

“And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Now I’m the one silently sobbing.

Franco and Cameron stare at each other from across the room for what feels like ages. Aiden is watching them from the entrance to the kitchen. Jake stops at the foot of the stairs…

“Cam…” I say, though my voice is so soft, I’m not sure he can hear.

“You came back to us, Dad,” he says again. Cam leaps over the couch to embrace his father, the father who was there for him in a way no one else was. They’re holding each other so tight, patting each other on the back so hard it must hurt. Between the three of us, there are more tears than at a funeral...but this isn’t an ending...it’s only the beginning for our family.

Aiden runs and joins the hug, muffin crumbs falling all over the floor. Jake follows behind, sketchbook tossed aside.

Cameron turns my way and opens an arm for me to join. The boys pull me into the center of their hug. I have no doubt in my mind that everything we’d been through our whole lives was to get us right here, to this moment, in my husband’s loving arms, and surrounded by our boys, and by my sister who couldn’t resist the family hug.

I’ve got MY Franco. And I’ve got my family. I’ve got everything that matters.

Alexis  
______________

“Human beings crave meaning in life,” says Neil. “We look for meaning in everything, even where it doesn’t exist. Scientists have found that people who can find meaning in their suffering, people who live with a sense of purpose, tend to be overall happier in life, and they live much longer. 

“Now, couples or groups of people, like friends or families, who can find a shared meaning in life, a shared sense of purpose, are some of the happiest, healthiest, most stress-resilient people around.”

I love hearing Neil speak. He has such a soothing, sweet tone, and when he’s passionate about something, it’s filled with a playful excitement. I’m holding his hand as we’re driving next to the water...a different body of water than where we spent our weekend.

“Existentialists knew the value of purpose in life long before science caught up with them. Freidrich Nietzsche was the man who coined the phrase, ‘That which does not kill us makes us stronger,’ and, ‘He who has a WHY to live can bear almost any HOW.’ He also knew the value of a deeply rooted connection in relationships. He said, ‘It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.’”

I run my lips over the knuckles of his hand as he speaks. The hitch in his breath and the drop in his tone tells me he’s not at all unaffected by my attentions.

He clears his throat and smiles as he goes on, “Nietzsche understood the value of shared meaning and connection in…”

“Oh, give it a rest, doctor, please!” says a voice from the back seat.

“Valentin,” I chide, “if it were up to me, we would’ve left you at the lake. I was enjoying what Neil had to say, and if you don’t like it, you can walk the rest of the way to the launch. It’s not our fault Nina left you behind and asked Finn to drive her home.”

Valentin lets off a frustrated sigh. “Apologies, Dr. Byrne. Natasha is right, of course.”

“No offense taken,” says Neil. “But...it would seem that you of all people might want to be open to learning a little more about making a relationship work.”

I chuckle loud enough to express my amusement at Valentin’s self-induced dysphoria.

“Lucky for you, Valentin, we’re here, and you no longer have to endure my musings on Nietzsche.” He pulls into the loading zone for the launch to Spoon Island.

“It’s not Nietzsche I object to, doctor, it’s the subject. I prefer his ideas about God, power, and suffering over shared purpose and meaning.”

“Those concepts are intertwined, Valentin.”

“Only when I want them to be.” Valentin opens the door and steps out, pulling his bags out with him. “Thanks for the…” he smirks as he considers his words, “...stimulating weekend, and for the ride home. I expect I’ll see you around, dear sister.”

I give a wave goodbye in relief of being done with him. “You’re too good a man,” I tell Neil.

“It was my retreat. I couldn’t leave one of my clients stranded up there.”

“He could’ve caught a ride home with the cook.”

Neil laughs, “She lives up there. It would be a long wait, and I wouldn’t put her through that experience.”

I laugh at his agitation with my brother. Neil’s hand lays open in my lap and I trace the lines in his palm as he pulls away from the docks. 

“Tell me,” I say, “do you think we can find a shared purpose together?”

“Oh, Alexis, I think we’ve already started doing just that.”

“How so?”

He glances at me with a sweet smile, then looks back to the road. He says, “We both have jobs that mean a great deal to us...jobs that help people in very vulnerable positions.”

“That’s true.”

“We want the same things in a relationship...love, friendship, acceptance, affection...adventure.”

The way he says that last word makes me shiver with anticipation. “And what sort of adventures do you have planned for us tonight?”

He pulls his hand from my grasp to grab my thigh, “You up for some adventure tonight, princess?”

In lieu of an answer, I lean over the center console and place a slow, sensual kiss just under his ear. His grip tightens on my thigh turning me on in an instant.

I hear the engine roar, and my weight shift as he steps heavy on the accelerator. He gets us back to my house in record time, fueled by my soft lips and teasing tongue.

I’m laughing delightedly when he comes to a screeching halt in my drive. My laughter dies in my throat when he grabs my arms and pulls me onto his lap, kissing me like he’s starved for it. My hands tangle in that messy hair as he explore my curves like it’s the first time.

“What’s your pleasure tonight, Alexis? Anything you want.”

I bite my lip thinking of something I read in a book a long time ago. “Do you have a riding crop in your sexy bag of tricks?”

His gravelly laugh is deep and promising, “Indeed, I do. Black leather. Ready to be broken in.

I kiss him again, but the anticipation is too much, and I have to pull myself away so we can get inside and get down to business. I’m ready for another of his mind-blowing orgasms. They’re quickly becoming my new favorite addiction.

Neil moves to the back of the SUV to retrieve the duffel bag. He shifts around our suitcases, pillows, and blankets. I can tell he’s getting more and more agitated the longer it goes on.

“What’s wrong?”

“The bag’s not here.”

“That can’t be possible. I watched you put it in.”

“I know. I remember placing it here where this pillow’s been shoved.”

I look in the back and see what he’s talking about. “Wait, that’s not one of our pillows.”

“Whose is it?” he’s confused. “Do you think someone took my bag and replaced it with their pillow?”

The blue satin of the pillowcase looks familiar. I grab the pillow and inhale the scent of Yves Saint Laurent Parisienne. I look to Neil in frustrated defeat, and say, “Diane.” 

Diane  
______________

All I can see is red marks on soft, pale skin. The welts are raised and might take a couple of days to go away. They’re hot to the touch and contrast against the unmarked cooler skin. It’s a startling aphrodisiac.

The black, leather riding crop makes a loud slapping noise when it hits skin, even louder when it hits soft, delicate, sensitive skin. Moans of pleasure fill my ears, and I relish what I have with this big, strong man. Max may not have much in the way of brains - that’s fine, I have enough for both of us - but he gives me everything else I could possibly need. 

Another crack sounds, and more moaning emphasizes my point.

Max looks sexy as hell in those black cuffs, tied to the bed, completely at my mercy. I bring the crop down again on his tender thigh, and his cock jumps at the contact. 

“Say it again!” I demand.

“You’re a queen!”

“Whose queen?”

“My queen, your highness!”

“You’re goddamn right.” I climb on top of my mount and sheath this weapon. I bring the crop down on his legs behind me as I start my ride.

This retreat has been one of the best damn weekends of my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate your comments, and I hope you enjoyed.


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